The Contract
by Blood Thirsty Angle
Summary: Living life as an ordinary delivery girl, Neena finds herself stranded in Asguard with no one to trust or call a friend. It is her destiny now to decide whether to chose her own fate or go down the path that was unknowingly set for her. *Goes along with The Pendant by Much Ado 96*
1. I don't think we're on earth anymore

Of all the dumbest jobs in the world, she just had to get stuck with this one. Her moped seemed to sneer at her, its blue green paint shining underneath the evening sun with a blinding gleam. As she stepped away from the vehicle and walked morosely up the steps of a two story, fine painted white house. A large, white paper sack was held in her hands and her right hand pressed the doorbell, foot tapping the ground in boredom.

Five minutes later, the door opened and a middle aged man opened the door. "Hello, I'm from La Feliz Taco," she somehow managed to say this without rolling her eyes, something she was very proud of doing. "Did you order the six tacos with sour cream and guacamole with potato oles?"

"Yes," the man snatched the bag from her, sniffing rather impolitely. "And you're late. My tacos are cold now!"

"Well they wouldn't be if you had opened the door five minutes ago."

"Are you sassing me?"

"Yeah."

He handed her ten dollars, which she promptly took and stuck it in her back pocket. The man just glanced back inside his house, where a dog was barking at her from behind his back. "Be quiet, Buster!" he snapped towards the canine before returning his focus back on her ."I insist on a refund. These tacos are cold and I ordered hot tacos, not cold tacos."

"Well I can't give you a refund," man, this guy was really starting to annoy her. "It's not our policy. And if you had opened the door five minutes ago, they wouldn't be cold! Just stick them in a microwave or something, I don't care."

He narrowed his eyes. "You better watch your tone, young lady," he sneered down at her. "Maybe I need to have a word with your manager."

"Fine," she snapped back. "Talk with him. See if I give a shit. I don't need this fucking job anyway."

He gaped at her, almost looking like a praying mantis while doing so. "My word," he sputtered, shaking his head in a confused tone. "Young people these days! And you, little missy, don't need to be swearing!"

"I'll swear if I want to! Is there anything else?"

He shook his head, but his eyes stared down at her meanly. "I'll be speaking with your manager," he said to her while scooting his dog away from the door. "If you come back here, you should have a better attitude. I am the one buying the food you deliver."

"Maybe I won't come back," she grumbled as the door closed, practically stomping on her way back to her moped. "Maybe my manager will finally come to his senses and fire me. Hell, he probably should have done that a long time ago."

The night was a lot color than the day, which had reached over a hundred degrees. Thankfully school had let out three weeks ago, so the hottest days of the year weren't spent cooped up in a stuffy, non air conditioned building. Apparently the school board thought that because they lived in New Mexico, they loved the heat and could tolerate it. Hell, if she didn't' have her AC, she probably would have died of heat stroke a long time ago.

La Feliz Taco looked almost like a Taco John's restaurant, only smaller and owned by actual Hispanics. It sat in the middle of town near the diner and it used to be a family run establishment until a year ago when the owners decided they wanted to do a take-out menu. That's where she, and three other people came in.

"I'm back," she called out as she opened the glass door to the restaurant, nose immediately assaulted with the smell of ground beef, seasonings, and fresh tortillas. A few of the customers were wrapping up their meals, her coworker Ronnie ringing up their orders while their manager and co-owner of the place, Geraldo Ramirez helped him work the register.

"Welcome back," Ronnie glanced up from the register. "Did old man Smith give you trouble?"

"No more than any other customer," she left the part out about her getting a little too sassy, but figured it wasn't relevant. "Are there any other orders?"

"Ask Rosario," Geraldo answered. "She's in the kitchen."

She pushed her away past the double doors, into the steaming kitchen that smelled of Mexican cuisine. The radio was blasted on high, Mariachi music screaming in her ears. Rosario was singing along in a low voice, hips swaying to the beat as she cleaned the stove. The restaurant closed at nine-thirty every day and she couldn't blame them for closing early. They had three kids and a fourth on the way. The older two, twin boys, were entering fourth grade next year and the youngest, a little girl that she thought was adorable, had finished kindergarten. "Señora Ramirez?" she asked, trying to get the woman's attention. "Señora Ramirez!"

"¿Qué?" the pregnant woman lifted her eyes, almost jumping when she saw her. "Oh, Neena, I didn't see you. You're just so small that sometimes I don't see you."

She tried to ignore that comment. She was not that short! 153 cm was not that short! Rosario stood at least 176 cm, so her eyes barely landed on the top of her head. Damn, the woman was tall. Almost as tall as her husband. "What is it, Neena?"

"Do you have anymore orders?" she asked, trying very hard not to get impatient. "Or am I done for the night?"

Rosario glanced down at a notepad, clicking her tongue as she looked over the list. "No," she finally decided. "We're done for the night. Actually, by the end of tomorrow we'll be gone for two weeks. We're visiting my family down in Mexico for Luis and Mateo's birthday this Saturday," her eyes shone with pride as she mentioned her little nine year twins. "Mariana will miss you. You're her favorite employee, you know."

Honestly, she had no idea why. The little six year would follow her around the restaurant when she was taking orders, copying everything she did. She tried to keep the swearing down to a minimum while the little girl was trailing after her. The only thing she really did say around her was "Commie bastard," but that was the least harmful thing she could say.

"The boys will be ten, right?" she asked, just for reassurance.

"Sí," the Hispanic woman nodded. "Their Abuelos are looking very forward to seeing them. We haven't seen them since Christmas."

She nodded at that, removing her shoulder length black hair from her ponytail. Technically while she was out on delivery, she was supposed to put a hat on, but she never did. Hated those damn things. They made her hair all staticy and resulted in her looking like she stuck her finger in an outlet. "Well, I'm going to clock out," she punched her number into the computer nearby. "See you in two weeks! Tell the boys happy birthday!"

"Buenas Noches!" the older woman called back, giving a little wave. "Tell you father I said hi and tell him when the baby comes, we'll be wanting another portrait."

"I will!"

She bid Geraldo and Ronnie goodnight and hopped on her moped, taking off into the starry night. Just one more night of delivering boring tacos and she was free for two weeks. What would she even do for two weeks? Sleep, that was definite. Help her Dad in his art studio and just generally do nothing. Maybe listen to music, she didn't know. Since her Dad was Native American, Mescalero Apache, to be exact, she tended to listen to a lot of music he had listened to when he was younger. Despite the fact she didn't look very much like him at all besides the dark hair, almond eye shape, and high cheek bones. She even inherited his aquiline nose, though hers was smaller compared to his.

No, the rest of her looked like her mother. The pale skin, small nose and blue eyes were all from the mother she had never met. Gone away, was what her father told her many times. Not dead, just gone. "She was beautiful," he told her once as they were beading bracelets one day. "You look like her, you know. She had the same pale skin, even your lip shape. You have her eyes too. She had blue eyes just like you."

Well, much good that brought her. Her grandparents lived on the reservation nearby, and some of the people there didn't exactly look at her the same way they did her father. So yeah, what a whole lot of luck.

She pulled into the driveway of her home, the porchlight still on and the porch swing swaying as the west wind blew across the desert plane. Their home was on the edge of town, their closest neighbor was two blocks away. A one story house that looked more like a flat or trailer with cacti growing in the yard. Leaving her helmet on the seat, she tromped up the small steps and opened the door. Not a single light was on in the living room. The only light that could be seen was the glow from the kitchen door.

"What? Right now? Are you kidding me?"

She tiptoed towards the kitchen, opening the door silently. She expected to see her Dad talking on the phone or to someone face to face, but all she got was him facing the sink. He was staring down at it with his forehead creased, dark eyes scanning the water as if he was looking at someone...or something. She hid by the door, hoping her father wouldn't look up and see her reflection in the window.

She couldn't hear the voice he was talking to, but her stomach rolled nervously. His eyes narrowed at whatever he was looking at before sighing in what appeared to be defeat. "Fine," he sighed, looking more tired than he usually did. "I'll send her. But promise me she won't get hurt."

The water gurgled and she could hear the sink begin to drain. Quickly she opened the door, closing it swiftly to appear as if she just entered. Her father jumped, whirling around to look like a deer in the headlights. "I'm back," she flopped down in a chair. "And hungry."

"Right," he blinked and then began to compose himself. "What do you want for dinner? Do you want me to order out?"

"I don't care," she slumped in her seat, chin barely touching the table. "Just no tacos please. I can't stand the smell of them anymore."

He smiled at that. "How about I make some fry bread?" the smile grew wider as her interest was peaked. "And we put honey on it instead of meat. Does that sound good?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Language daughter," he shook his head, starting to gather ingredients and begin to make the dough. "You know swearing isn't a very attractive thing for a young lady to do."

"And?"

He raised his eyes. "Just try to keep a filter. You never know who you'll piss off if you don't."

"Yeah, like that will happen," she muttered sarcastically, remembering how one of her customers once called her a little shit. It was a wonder how she hadn't been fired yet. "So, who were you talking to?"

He froze, pausing in mixing the ingredients. She could see a million thoughts running across his eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, but ended up not saying what he wanted to say. "No one," he finally answered. "It was no one; just myself."

"Really?" she leaned forward, grabbing the honey off the middle of the table and putting a little on her finger. "You know you can tell me anything. I won't get mad."

Damn, he really looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't. Instead, he just turned on the stove and gathered oil into the frying pan. "You get mad easily," he told her. "Just like your Grandmother Nashotah. She has a temper that rivaled even the angriest spirit."

"The last time we saw Gran-Gran was last summer," she put more honey in her mouth just as her Dad took the bottle away. "Hey! I was eating that!"

"You'll eat all of it," he teased and ignored her annoyed look. "You'll turn into a bear if you keep eating it straight from the bottle."

"Good!"

She didn't mean that; she rather liked being human thank you very much. Her father put the dough into the frying pat, the oil sizzling and filling the air with the smell of bread. Her mouth salivated and watched intensely as the bread sizzled and turned into a golden brown in the pan. Her father hummed something under her breath and that's when she noticed it. He had paint all over his arms and it brought a smile to her lips. Her father could get so lost in his art that he would even forget what he was doing or how he got paint on different parts of his body.

"I have something for you," he began, turning the bread over. "It just found it today."

"What?"

He left the pan to sit on the stove and dug into his pocket. Within seconds, a ring was lying in the palm of his hand, extended out towards her. In his palm was a bronze and copper ring twisted around a glass focal bead. He plopped it in her hand, and she studied it, eyebrow raised. "Uh, what's with the gift? My birthday isn't till October. Oh my God, what did you do?"

He made a face. "I didn't do anything. I was just digging through stuff and found this. It, uh, belonged to your mother."

The whole kitchen went silent. The only sound to be heard was the bread sizzling in the frying pan and the smell of dough turning to bread. The whole subject about her mother was taboo. Her father didn't like to talk about her and never brought her up unless absolutely necessary. She didn't blame him; her opinion of her mother wasn't very high. She abandoned her and her father as a baby and never came back. No note, not even a phone call. Some bitch.

"Why do you want me to have it?" she asked, sliding the ring on her finger. "It's a little...gaudy, don't you think?"

"She wanted you to have it; I just kind of forgot about it," he said sheepishly. "Before she left, she told me to give this to you. I would have given it to you last October, but I forgot where I put it."

"Thanks," she murmured, not entirely liking the thing on her finger. It didn't feel right; like a shoe that didn't fit. She was never much of a jewelry person. The only things she wore was sometimes Apache jewelry and the elastic bands from Hot Topic, but that was it. "Really though, Dad, thanks. I don't know what I'll wear it with."

He took the bread off the pan, drenching it with honey. "I know you don't care for jewelry, but I thought maybe you'd like it. It is yours after all."

"I guess."

They ate in silence, which is typically how they always ate. She knew she smelled like a taco and wished she could go shower, but right now, she was too focused on her food. That, and watching her Dad eat his food mournfully, deep in thought. He avoided eye contact with her and that just made things awkward. Really, really, awkward.

"I'm going to shower," she said, sliding her plate towards him. "Then I'm off to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Neena."

She walked towards her room, grabbing pajamas out of her dresser and gazed up towards the shrine of her favorite influence: Captain America. Damn, he was just so awesome! She had old action figures from the forties, a few of the trading cards they had made. She had found and printed off articles about him, the few pictures that were released of him with his friends, especially that handsome Bucky Barnes. Still, it would be totally awesome to meet the real man in person. Too bad he was gone though. He and Bucky.

"Good night Cap," she said, giving a mock salute. "I'm off to take a shower!"

Not that he cared; pictures don't talk after all. She slid her ring off, tossing it onto the dresser. It gleamed in the light in an almost ethereal glow. She paused, staring at it few a few seconds. A chill went down her spine just looking at it. The ring felt...different. The patterns on it, the way the copper and bronze twisted together made it seem like an ancient pattern. Or a pattern that wasn't from this world. But that would be silly. Her mother was human and she was off probably bangining other men and getting pregnant. Her father was a victim of some deceitful whore.

With that in mind, she abandoned the thoughts of the ring and made her way to the shower, whistling the Star Spangled Banner as she went.

The next day as she headed off to work, she didn't realize a change was in the air. Her father sat in the living room, working on a new painting when she stepped into the living room, ring on her right index finger. Dressed in her work uniform, she peered over the canvas. "I'm off to work. Won't be back till nine thirty. I'll probably get something on the way home, so you don't have to cook tonight. I saved you some hamburger helper in the fridge."

He smiled a watery smile and stood up. The next thing he did surprised her. Instead of telling her goodbye and have a nice time at work, he embraced her. It wasn't a light embrace, but rather a bone crushing hug. "Goodbye," he continued to hold her tightly, moving some of her hair back. "Please be safe. I'm sorry Neena, I wish I could be a better father. I'm doing the best I can…"

"What are you going on about?" she asked, feeling now very weirded out. Her Dad rarely ever hugged her. "Have you been drinking? If you have, you should probably lay off for a little bit."

"Please remember," he murmured in her ear and she wouldn't deny it, a shiver went down her spine. "That I have and will always love you. Even when you are mad at me, please remember that I do love you."

"Okay?" This was really confusing; the last time he'd hugged her like this was when she was almost five years old. "Dad, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry for everything I did; I was wrong. I don't think I can ask for your forgiveness right now, but please...please be safe. And please, this is all I ask of you, but please find your way back home, alright?"

"Uh, okay?" she pulled away, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. "I'm going to work now, okay? I love you too!"

He didn't say anything else, but she could have sworn that he had tears in his eyes. She got on her moped, having about fifteen minutes to get to work. The second she got there, Rosario planted the hat on her head, scolding her that she should be wearing it. "I can't wear it under my helmet!" she griped, wanting to take the damn thing off. "It'll get squished and make my head uncomfortable!"

Rosario didn't say anything, just handed her the order and told her to get a move on. "Mr. Smith called this morning," she began as she was making her way out. "If you sass to another customer young lady, it will reflect on your paycheck!"

Damn, fuck her life! Could it get any worse? "I'll try!" she called back, taking the order off the counter. "No promises!"

The wind was hot today, smacking her across the face and getting dust in her eyes. "Fucking sand," she hissed as it stung her eyes. As she drove, she turned on the radio and fiddled around with the stations until she found one she actually liked. "Shut up and drive," she sang, rather obnoxiously to no one in particular. If this was the only way to alleviate boredom, then so be it.

"Get you where you wanna go if you know what I mean, got a ride that's cooler than a limousine," she sang loudly, now jamming out for the other cars on the road to see. Behind her, there was a man in a van with a thing of coffee in his one hand and the other hand on the wheel. "Shut up and drive, shut up and drive!"

She was so busy jamming out, subconsciously fiddling with the stupid ring on her finger. She rotated it counter clockwise, the metals cool on her fingertip as she twisted it around. The wind began to pick up, which made her pause in the middle of her song. "Weather's bad today," she mumbled to herself, but cranked the music up louder, jamming out once again. Driving forty miles an hour, she continued to sing to her heart's content. Never mind the fact she sounded like a dying ostrich.

Then in the blink of an eye, the scenery changed. No longer was the wind slapping her face, rather her eyes were assaulted with at fifty different pairs of eyes staring at her like goldfish. Food went flying, the sound of glass breaking and drinks sloshing onto the floor. She could hear their gasps of shock and the looks of surprise and bewilderment as she drove past. One man with a golden mane held a goblet of ale in his hand, and as she drove by he continued to drink it with ease. The man next to him was leaning on his hand, eyes following her as she drove by screaming. The woman next to him was obviously talking to him, but he wasn't listening. As she drove by, she paused and began to follow her with her eyes.

As she weaved through the table full of food and drinks, she lost control. She flew off the table, her moped crashed onto the floor and she landed on the ground to the left of it.

"Shit!" she cursed, now holding wrist tightly, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes. "Mother Fucking Shit! Holy Fucking shit, that fucking hurt!"

She felt a shadow loom over her and kneel down next to her. She flinched, expecting some horrible figure but instead it was an older woman a salmon colored gown. She held out a hand, smiling gently at her. "Are you alright, my dear?"

"What the fuck? Oh my God, who the fuck are you? Where fuckity fuck shit am I?"

A woman with a long black dress with a slit from the thigh all the way down to the feet. Her curly golden blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun. She knelt down next to the older woman and the man with dark hair stood behind her. Neena flinched back even more. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Calm the fuck down," the younger woman laughed, but that didn't make her feel any better.

"Get the fuck away from me!" she was scooching away from the three people towering over, which was not easy to do with an injured wrist.

"Do be aware this is the queen you are speaking to," the dark haired man began in a casual tone, glancing at the older woman.

"Shit," she hissed, causing the older woman to raise an eyebrow. "Man, I really fucked up this time!"

"Are you alright?" the queen asked once more. "You made quite the entrance this evening."

"No fucking shit!" she hollered, grasping her wrist. "Where the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you people?"

"Let me see your wrist," the younger woman went grab it.

"No, you stay the hell away from me!"

"Just give it here," she took her wrist anyways

A tingling sensation shot up through her hand and up her arm as the younger woman held her hand. She could feel her bones mending together and it hurt like shit, but then things were fine. Slowly, the pain receded and she couldn't feel a thing. "What the fuck did you do to me?" she snapped as the woman let go of her hand.

"You're welcome," she said flatly.

She tried to stand up, but then two men came behind her and grabbed her upper arms. "Bring her to the Great Hall," the queen commanded. "Gently!" she added, staring the two guards down.

They dragged her away and she could see her moped lying broken on the floor. Damn, her father was going to kill her. If these people didn't kill her first.

The Great Hall, or whatever the hell it was called, was pretty much all gold. The floor was marble, the walls were solid gold with intricate designs. A giant throne held an old man with a corny eye patch who looked very angry. His eye unnerved her; piercing through her soul. "What is your name, child?" he demanded in an angry voice.

"Why the fuck do you want to know?"

Wrong thing to say. He took his big stick and slammed it to the ground. The floor made a very loud sound that echoed through the hall. She didn't say anything, for fear he would impale her.

"And you thought I was bad," she heard the younger woman whisper to the man with dark hair.

"Why the fuck are you following me?" she snapped towards the woman. "What are you, some kind of child molestor?"

She heard the dark haired man snicker, but when the woman glared at him he shrugged. The woman stepped closer, "I was in your position earlier this week, so I suggest you just pipe the fuck down. Okay?" she smiled.

She ignored the woman. "Can it, skank!" she hissed towards the woman before returning her attention back to the old pirate sitting on the throne. "Will someone please explain where the hell I am?"

The dark haired man intervened, putting himself between Neena and the woman, "Father, might I suggest a night in the dungeon so this child may collect her wits?"

"I am not a child! I'm fourteen!"

"Take her to the dungeons," the old man ordered. "We will send for you when you have recovered your manners," he told her condescendingly. "Go now, take her away!"

"Shit," she whinned, ignoring the younger woman's nasty look as the dark haired man held her by the waist. "Fuck. My. Life!"


	2. Cat fight

_**Author's note:** Thanks to all the awesome people who reviewed! I hope you all read The Pendant right after reading this because that story has so much potential and there is so much being planned right now! And I'm also not apologizing for Neena's sailor mouth. It's who she is; as she grows, she learns to keep a filter. Also, the italics in the story are for thoughts. Okay? And we meet more of the lovely Ana, who was written by Much Ado 96! _

**_Warnings:_** _A lot of swearing and some violence_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own Marvel and any of its properties. I do not own Anastasia; she belongs to Much Ado 96 who is awesome to let me use her. I just own Neena._

* * *

Alright, so stomping around in her cell did not accomplish anything except for receiving strange looks from the prisoners in the cells nearby. And all her pacing did was make her even angrier, fueling the headache that was building in the back of her skull. "Fuck this!" she howled, much to the annoyance of the prisoners nearby. "How the fuck am I supposed to get home? Fucking pirate guy! Who the fuck does he think he is?"

She punched the wall hard, the prison cell rippling in effect. It didn't do anything to help her; it just made her right wrist hurt. "Damnit ow!" she howled, holding her wrist. "Fuck, did it break? Not again!"

She flopped down to the floor, eyes hurting just a little bit from the blindingly white room.

"What am I going to do?" she grumbled, drawing her knees up to her chest and digging her nails into her palm, a nervous trait she picked up over the years. "Dad's probably so worried; Rosario and Geraldo too. How am I going to get home?"

She felt tears begin to form under her eyes, but she wiped them away furiously. She would not cry; crying would not get her out of here. She just needed to calm down and try to find a way out. " _IF there's a way out,"_ she thought grimly. " _I could be stuck here for a long time. And these people are so alien like. What if time works differently here? Dad could be an old man by the time I get home!"_

"Stop it," she hissed to herself. "Focus on the present! Right now, just think of an escape plan."

She withdrew her knees, lying down against the wall with her face towards the window. It was cold, and her short-sleeved red work shirt didn't exactly warm her up. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying so hard to stay awake, but sleep sounded so good right now. So she tried to imagine herself back at home.

Back in her room, with her Captain America shrine and Mountain Dew yellow walls that really needed to be repainted. Back in the bed she had ever since she was seven years old with the dark wood headboard and blue blankets and sheets. All that did was make her chest tighten and tears gather at her eyes again. She could picture her father, tired and sad, wondering where on earth his daughter had disappeared to and whether or not she was alive and he should make funeral arrangements.

She allowed one tear to slip down her face before drifting off to sleep.

That night, or whatever time it was here, she dreamed of another world. A world where the women dressed in long, flowing dresses and the men in fine fitting clothing. She could hear elegant music and laughter coming from all sides of the room; men and women dancing around without a care in the world. So beautiful and god like, not at all human.

She could feel their energy and felt it rush through her veins. She wanted to join in and to her surprise, she was. She typically hated dresses, but this one felt different. She was the awe of everyone in the room; dressed in light blue and silver silk that emphasized her eyes. She danced among the crowd, feeling just as beautiful as they were, if not more. The music sounded so sweet in her ears, sounds that no mortal instruments could make.

She danced, even though she had no dance partner. She could see the dark haired man dancing with the blonde woman in a bright green dress. The man with the blonde mane danced with some woman with dark hair and the pirate guy danced with the queen, a smile on his face reserved only for her.

Then, the scenery changed. Instead of wearing a beautiful dress, she was in tattered black clothing covered in blood. The ring was on her right index finger, the light from the tapers casting an eerie glow on it. A knife was clenched tightly in her hand, the sound of blood dripping off it echoing in her ears. Men lay dead all around her and the stench of death was in the air.

She woke up then, heart racing as her eyes blinked open. Instead of the white ceiling that she was beginning to grow accustomed to, there were stars, and what appeared to be solar systems moving around one another. A few comets flew by and it reminded her of home, when she and her father would sit outside at night and he would point out the constellations and tell her the stories. Instead of cold there was warmth and she found herself lying on a feather soft bed rather than a cold floor.

"How are you feeling?"

She nearly fell off the bed at the sound of a gentle, motherly sounding voice. The older woman who had spoken to her last night sat down on the bed next to her, dressed in a light yellow and gold dress. Her hair was curled and pulled into an intricate up-do that made her look younger. Her dark blue eyes shone kindly at her. "My husband thinks if you spend time in the dungeons, your manners will improve," her lips curled into an amused smile. "I, however, disagree. So, tell me child, what is your name? I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard."

Alright, so this woman appeared to be a lot nicer than her husband, but that didn't make her trustworthy. "Neena," she said in a slow voice. "Neena Brooks."

"That's a pretty name," the Queen began kindly. "And how did you come across Asgard?"

"Uh, I really don't know," she answered honestly, almost a little proud of herself for not swearing. " _Good for you,"_ she thought to herself sarcastically. " _Do you want a shiny gold star?"_ "I was just driving along, doing my job, and then I was on your table. Um, sorry about the mess?" she added weakly.

"You made quite the entrance; that you did," she stood up, dress trailing behind her as she walked towards a table. "Tea?"

" _Shit, is she going to poison me? Wait, she's the queen. Would she? She seems nice,"_ thoughts were racing across her mind as the Queen poured the liquid into two small silver cups. She took the cup carefully as the older woman handed it to her. "Thanks," she nodded, bringing it slowly to her lips. It was warm; with some sort of sweetener that tasted bizarrely like honey. "It's good!" she said in surprise.

The amused smile returned to the Queen's face. "I retrieved you from your cell a few hours ago; you were out cold. A dungeon is no place for a child."

"I am not a child!" she snapped, forgetting who she was talking to for a second. "I'm fourteen!"

"Of course you are," whether or not the Queen was being condescending; she had no idea. "The last young lady who was in your position is a lot like you. You share the same spark."

"Well, good for her," she grumbled, setting the cup down on the table. "And who is this oh so special young lady?"

"The woman who healed your wrist," the Queen said pointedly, glancing down at the appendage. "And I healed it again while you were asleep. You certainly like to hit things."

"Really?" she rolled her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Look, uh, Queen Frigga. Do you know how I can get home? I'm from Earth; I don't know if you know where that is, but I live there. My Dad is probably really worried about me right now." Maybe if she played the "I have family back home." card then maybe the queen would send her home. After all, she always thought that most queens were very motherly anyway. Most of the them, that is.

"So you're from Midgard. That's what I thought," the Queen looked extremely pleased with herself. "But, that doesn't answer the question that everyone is wondering," she sat back down next to her, dark blue eyes rivaling the color of the ocean. "How did you get here from Midgard. Last time we checked, humans don't really know anything about Asgard."

"Yeah, well, I told you that I don't know!" she stood up, now realizing that her clothes had been switched out. Instead of jeans and her work shirt, she was wearing a simple light gray dress. She froze. Where were her clothes? Shit, had some weird person touched her while she slept? "What did you do with my clothes?" she asked, almost ready to panic. "And who undressed me?"

"Hm? Oh, one of my handmaidens undressed you," the Queen replied. "And don't worry, your clothes are being washed. They were quite filthy with all that food, don't you think?" her eyes twinkled with amusement.

" _Well how was I supposed to know you were having a feast?"_ she thought to herself. Granted, the knowledge of her clothes made her feel a little bit better, but not by much. "So, when can I go home?" she asked, looking out the window. From what it looked like, it appeared it was little after eight in the morning. If there was such a thing as morning here. "Your highness," she started in the sweetest tone she could manage. "I hate repeating myself, but could you please tell me how to get home?"

"I'm afraid it's not possible, at the moment," Frigga confirmed, all looks of amusement and kindness gone. "Your arrival and the commotion caused by Lady Anastasia all in one week is, well to put it mildly, disturbing. My husband, Odin, does not think it is a coincidence. He has his suspicions of why there is another being from Midgard in our realm."

"And you think I decided to come here on purpose?" She asked, tone darkening slightly.

"I'm not saying that at all," Frigga continued, narrowing her eyes. "I don't think you came here on purpose and Lady Anastasia, well, has issues that she needs to work on. I know too many things, some of which I really don't want to know."

A smile grew, which made her relax a little bit, but not for long. Suddenly the doors were thrown open and the man with the golden mane walked in holding her bag of tacos. "Mother, I have eaten one! They are delicious! What are these," he held up the bag. "Tacooos?"

Neena cringed at the way he pronounced them with a long o, not a short o. Frigga just stared at her son in confusion. He strode towards her, holding the bag to her face; taco in the other hand. "Mother, you must try these delicacies!" he exclaimed vibrantly. "Here, eat one!"

"I'll try one later, my son," she put his arms down firmly. "Right now, I'm speaking to Neena."

"Mother, did Father permit you to release the prisoner?" the man with raven hair appeared in the doorway, looking at her suspiciously. She suddenly felt the urge to flip him off, but didn't.

"No," Frigga said coolly, placing her hands on Neena's shoulders. "And young ladies don't belong in prison," she nodded towards the blonde woman, Anastasia. "And didn't you get Ana out of prison, Loki?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Thor and I agreed upon the conditions of her release," he countered, his arm linked with Ana's. "We didn't agree to have this child be released as well.

"You didn't hesitate to release Ana." Frigga narrowed her eyes.

"I actually wasn't imprisoned at all, if you remember correctly" Ana brought up, eyes meeting Neena's for a brief moment. "How was your night in prison, Neena?"

"It fucking sucked," she found herself saying flatly, not at all caring what these people thought of her. "What did you do to get on the old pirate's bad side?"

Frigga looked confused as well as Thor. Ana laughed, "I attempted to kill him upon our first meeting. Not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things."

"Wow, that's fucked up," she stated rather bluntly. "And you're with tall, dark and creepy?"

"You could say that. Draw what conclusions you may," Ana shrugged while the man rolled his eyes.

"So you're together? And pirate guy approves? Doubt it." She rolled her eyes at the woman. She certainly seemed full of herself. In fact, now that she paid more attention to her, she reminded her of, well, a Barbie. Only with more muscle tone and wider hips.

"The All-Father does not really have a say in what I can and cannot do."

"So you're screwing the All-Father's son? Wow, you're more of a skank than I thought," Neena rolled her eyes, finding this woman to be rather arrogant. "Can I go home now?"

Ana's eyes widened, "Come here and say that," she broke from his arm and took a step toward her.

Neena stepped forward, chin tilted up in boldness. "I said that you're a skank. Or would you rather prefer the word slut?"

A silver stick appeared in her hand and she closed the distance, taking a swing and smacking her knees, sending her the ground. "Watch yourself," she warned.

"Fuck you, you psycho bitch!" Neena cried, knees now throbbing in pain. "Fuck, that really hurt!"

"No shit. If you can't take what you dish out, I advise you stop your bitching."

"Ana, that's enough," Frigga stepped in between them, the silver stick in Ana's hand disappearing. "Neena, are you alright, child?"

"Damnit, I'm not a child!" she spat, but was ignored by the other four people in the room.

Frigga cast a withering look at Ana. "Heal her. Now."

"Get that bitch away from me!"

"Get over yourself," Ana backhanded her across the face, grabbing her knees sending another tingling sensation through her as her knees healed.

The second her knees were healed, her right leg lifted and she kicked her in the face. Her face smug with satisfaction as the woman looked surprised. Actually, everyone looked surprised; but she reveled in the bewilderment of the blonde woman Ana.

Ana brought a hand to her nose and saw the blood dripping, "That's it." She grabbed Neena by the arm and slammed her up against the wall, holding a dagger next to her face, "I'm trying really hard not to kill you right now."

Loki stepped in behind her, prying her arms off Neena. "That's enough, darling," he murmured into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. "Don't let this child rile you up." After he spoke Ana slapped him firmly across the face, huffing as she backed away from Neena. "Alright then," Loki stretched out his jaw."

Neena slumped against the wall, banging the back of her head against the wall. "What the fuck is happening?" " _Shit, tall dark and creepy looks like he's into kinky business. Actually, he's kind of hot. Damnit Neena, pay attention!"_ she scolded herself, narrowing her eyes.

"Can we please just have a grown up discussion?" Frigga asked, not at all pleased. "Ana, you're over eight hundred years old; grow up. Loki, you're responsible for Ana; you should have kept a better eye on her. And Thor, stop eating the poor child's tacos!"

All three of them looked dumbfounded at her. "Are you implying that this is my fault?" Loki asked.

"No, I'm implying that it's all of your faults," she helped Neena up, giving her a stern look. "And you need to watch your mouth before Ana or someone worse rips it off."

"It would be a complete shame if she didn't have it, I completely agree," Ana sneered. Neena just showed her the middle finger.

"And it would be a shame if you didn't have your boyfriend to keep a leash on you!" she sneered back, completely ignoring Frigga's advice.

Ana began to rise from her seat but Loki held her back, "Darling, she is only a child. She will learn her manners eventually." He turned to Neena, "I suggest sooner rather than later."

"And I suggest you put your bitch on a leash," she stood her ground, ignoring Ana's enraged look. " _I_ suggest sooner rather than later."

Loki's eyes went big, realizing what was about to happen. "You've done it now," Ana growled, shoving Loki aside and trudging across the room. She grabbed Neena by the throat and began draining the life from her. "Anything else you wish to say?"

"Fuck you!"

* * *

Next thing she knew, there was darkness. When she awoke, she found herself lying on a stone table with a bunch of sand-like floating particles above her head. Her head hurt, shit, everything hurt. She groaned, signaling to the others that she was awake. Frigga appeared at her side, giving a rather exasperated smile to her. "You really did yourself in, child."

"I am not a child," she managed to whine. "What did that psycho Barbie do to me?"

"Oh, she just drained most of your life energy. Then smacked you in the head and caused you to black out. She tends to do that when provoked."

"Well no shit," she grumbled. "Do you have any Tylenol? Advil? Fuck it, give me vicodin!"

"If you hadn't been so rude, she would have healed you. But unfortunately, you're going to have to allow your body to heal itself. I suggest you two apologize to each other later," Frigga commented. "I'm not taking sides, but you two were behaving very unladylike."

"That bitch is no lady!" Neena sat up, flinging the particles away. "What the hell is this?"

"The Infirmary," Frigga nodded towards the table. "She drained quite a bit of energy, so I brought you here. It allowed you to heal yourself quicker and give us insight to a few things that were brought to light."

"Like what?" she asked, now a little bit curious. And concerned.

"That you're not one hundred percent human," Frigga said gently, making sure that she was sitting down. "When Ana drained your energy, she found out you're part Asgardian."

"What does that bitch know?" she snapped. "Wait? Asgardian? What's that?"

"What a majority of us here are. Excluding myself and Anastasia; we don't know what she is. We all thought you were human, but you're not. At least, not entirely."

"The fuck?" she hissed, headache increasing. "What does that even mean? That my Dad fucked an alien? Ew, gross!"

"Well that's putting it mildly," Frigga began in disapproving tone. "We're not aliens; that's a concept the humans came up with. Rather insulting in my opinion. Asgardians are at the center of the nine realms. Considered immortal by any human mind, but that's an exaggeration. We only live on average just five thousand years."

"Five thousand…" she trailed off, too shocked to say anything else. "My Dad screwed a one thousand year old whore?"

"Well, give or take five thousand years. But yes, this situation is a bit bizarre. Odin is very displeased with you."

"Well it's not like I asked to be created! Fuck him!" she snapped, now feeling a bit like herself. Then, it hit her like a ton of bricks "Oh God, my Dad screwed an alien. Why does bad shit always happen to me?"

"So the halfling has awoken," came Odin's voice, disapproving and stiff. "And her manners haven't improved. I hear she got into a fight with Loki's lady Anastasia."

"That bitch had it coming!" she growled, thoughts thinking back towards the woman with long blonde hair. "She's too full of herself."

"And you aren't?" Frigga asked wryly. "Did you question why Ana attacked you in the first place? If you had just ignored her comments, this wouldn't have happened. Not that Ana is entirely innocent either, but I don't have time to listen to children squabble."

The doors opened and tall, dark and creepy walked in. "What's he doing here?" she asked outloud. "Is his bitch on a leash? Or do we need to get a shock collar?"

Frigga glanced at Odin. "See? Attitude over here."

"I am simply here to check in on you," Loki answered.

"Well that's not creepy at all," she rolled her eyes. "Okey-doke, so we all know what I am, so can I for the love of God get the fuck out of here?"

"You are not permitted to leave Asgard until we understand how you came to be. When that day arrives, we will allow you to return to your home. While you are here you must be respectful, or else your stay will only be more difficult," Odin explained. "Is this clear?"

"But my Dad!" she exclaimed. "He's probably worried! I'm all he has! Let me go home!"

"We will notify your father that you are safe here. For your protection you are to remain under either Frigga's supervision or my sons. This is for the best."

"How do you know what's best?" she snapped, feeling more rage build up inside her. How dare these aliens keep her here! "You're not my boss; you can't tell me what to do!"

"Very well," Odin began. "I will have you secured in the dungeons once more. Until your manners improve and you cooperate with us, you shall remain there. No objections," he said finally, before exiting the room.

"You're going to let him do this to me?" she asked, in total shock, to Frigga. "Aren't you supposed to protect me or something?"

"We are by keeping you there, unfortunately," Frigga sighed. "Loki, please escort Neena to the dungeon."

"Yes, Mother."

"I don't want to go with tall, dark and creepy!" she protested.

"This is the attitude Odin was referencing," Frigga lectured, hands on her hips. "If you keep this attitude up, you'll dig yourself deeper than you already have."

"Whatever," she grumbled.

"Come along now," Loki motioned for her to follow. "Either come willingly or I will have to get the guards to take you, your choice."

"Damnit all to hell," she hopped off the table and followed him, obviously struggling with the lack of energy. "I'll come willingly, but not peacefully!"

"I would expect nothing less," he offered an arm to help her steady, but she slapped it away.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, still struggling to follow him. "I don't know where your alien hands have been!"

"Very well. If it pleases you, I may tell you exactly where they have been?"

"Fuck no!"

They continued to walk down the corridors, with him exactly ten steps ahead with his hands neatly behind his back and her barely being able to see straight. Her legs felt like lead and all she felt like doing was collapsing on the floor.

"Do you wish for assistance now?" she heard him call.

"I would rather crawl than let your alien hands touch me!"

"You're so much like Anastasia," she heard him laugh to himself.

"Bastard," she growled, but it came out more like a rasp. "Commie bastard."

"I apologize for this," he turned around and flung her over his shoulder as if she were a measly sack of potatoes. "I have more important matters to attend to than babysitting children."

"Like screwing your bitch?" she muttered in a snarky voice, attempting to kick him, but he simply moved his head with ease. She just ended up flailing around, which only further fueled her embarrassment.

"I must meet with my brother to discuss his future as king of Asgard, if you must know. But do tell, why does it interest you so?"

"Oh my God, stop talking!" she groaned, she pounded her fist on his back, but since he was wearing armor, it didn't affect him much. Instead, she just kept hurting her knuckles. "Ow, fuck! Why is your armor so damn hard?"

"I believe that is the purpose of armor," he retorted.

"Fuck off." She muttered in defeat, going limp.

She was silent the rest of the trip, though her head kept hitting the armor and her face was now red with embarrassment as other aliens stared at the scene of their prince with a tiny little girl over his shoulder. "Damn," she grumbled. "Why does bad shit always happen to me?"

"'Bad shit' normally happens to those who ask for it," he set her down outside her cell.

"Not always," she grumbled darkly, shivering a little. "Man, it's cold down here. And I'm hungry."

"I will have the guards bring you blankets and a warm meal. Does that sound good?" he asked.

"No, I would rather go home," she could feel tears form in her eyes, frustration building up. "I want to go home. My Dad; he's all I have," her lower lip began to tremble slightly. "Can't you take me home? Please?"

Loki didn't know what to do in the moment so he scooted her inside the cell awkwardly, "I'll send for the blankets and food," he told her before leaving her in the plain cell. She just flopped over, letting the tears fall down her face; too tired to deal with them.

* * *

 **Alright guys, that was chapter two! Hope you enjoyed it because there is a lot more coming in the future. Poor Neena, though she kind of got what she deserved.**


	3. Dungeons suck Period

_**Author's note:** This is by far the longest chapter. Over 7,000 words. Yikes! But it was fun to write! I had to go back and edit this with MuchAdo96's help. But still, hope you enjoy._

 _ **Warnings:** Some bad language_

 _ **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything besides minor OCs. Ana belongs to MuchAdo96_

* * *

"This is disgusting," she glared down at the foreign meat and vegetables. "That's it, when I get home, I'm going vegetarian."

"I tried that for 30 odd years. It was not one of my favorite experiences," Ana entered the dungeon, placing herself right outside Neena's cell.

"Well look who it is," she pushed the food away, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. "Did your fuck toy let you off your leash?"

"Now I could go into a very long and in depth description on every single thing you are implying, but I'm afraid that won't get us anywhere. That is, unless you would like to hear about those matters?"

"Nope; I'm good. Your boyfriend tried to explain it, but I don't want to hear about alien sex."

"It isn't much different than any other species. I'd say better in fact," she trailed off.

"Are we really having this conversation?" she asked, face now turning red. She sneezed, wiping her nose with her hand. "Can I have another blanket?"

"If you don't want to hear about my sex life, you should probably stop bringing it up," she told her. Walking up the steps to the cell she stepped right through the force field of her cell, conjured up a blanket and handed it to her, "The Queen said you might need this."

"Holy Shit! Did you just walk through a wall? I want to do that! Then I could kick the pirate's ass and get the hell out of here," she took the blanket, making a nest with the other three blankets. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Ana returned. "I would advise not trying to walk through that unless you want to be severely burned. It's kind of my thing," she laughed.

"Creepy," she eyed Ana, scooting away from her slowly. "You're very weird, Barbie."

"It has its perks, wouldn't you say?"

"I guess," she glanced towards the other prisoners in the cells. "I suppose you aliens aren't as weird as the ones over there."

"Whatever makes you feel better. I've seen a lot of criminals, and those aren't even the worst ones," Ana shrugged, looking beyond the other prisoners.

"What kind of criminals?"

"Some humans, some 'aliens.' The ones who kill and torture. Those kind," she explained vaguely.

"Wow," she curled into her blanket nest. "You must have seen a lot of shit."

"I've seen enough shit to last me a thousand lifetimes," she tried to smile.

"Aren't we supposed to be enemies or something? I mean, you tried to kill me yesterday," she sneezed again. "Fuck, I think i'm getting a cold. I need more blankets."

"If I was trying we wouldn't be having this conversation now, be grateful. It's a reflex of mine, just as yours is to out curse everyone in the room," she sat down next to Neena's blanket fort.

"It's a habit," she grumbled, wiping her nose. "I have no filter."

"So we've noticed. And I have a temper. Welcome to AA, Neena," she nudged at her.

She flinched a bit at the contact. "I can see you have a temper. Is tall, dark and creepy kinky? It looked like he liked to be slapped."

Anastasia let out a loud laugh, "I cannot confirm or deny that. But I will say it takes a certain type of person to be able to care about him."

"Well he's an asshole. His brother seems nicer. Oh shit, he ate the tacos I was supposed to deliver! I am so going to get fired!"

"I think you have a valid excuse as to why you've been missing work. You should be glad that Thor enjoyed them so much. Tacos are not my personal favorite though," she rambled on.

"Well woopty fucking doo. I am so happy he enjoyed them," she grumbled sarcastically. "What does he want? More of them?"

"I'd say he does. Think, if you stay you can open a taco restaurant and bring all that Midgardian food to Asgard. Though, most of it can stay there," she suggested.

"Are you kidding me? I burn everything I cook. My Dad has banned me from the stove when I almost set the house on the fire," she smiled at the memory before her throat tightened. "The stains are still on the ceiling."

"Well, I don't know what you were trying to cook, but an evening with Volstagg and you'll have that shit down pat, I guarantee," she smiled, trying to brighten the mood.

"Is he your other fuck toy?" she smirked.

"Gosh no. Loki is not a fan of sharing," she waved off the comment, though visibly agitated.

"I can tell."

There was suddenly a penny that fell in Neena's lap, startling her out of her blanket fort. "Penny for your thoughts?" Anastasia asked.

"Uh, Odin looks like a pirate? And Loki needs to grow his hair out?" she gathered herself in her blankets and moved to the corner. "And I want to see my Dad."

"I conquer on the former, but I don't even know my father and it has been over 800 years, so I think you can manage," Ana leaned against the cell wall.

"I don't know who my mom is," Neena wrapped another blanket around herself. "Dad never talks about her. All I have from her is this ring."

"Well," Ana thought for a moment. "I guess that makes two of us. You have a ring and I have this thing," she held up her pendant.

"Shit," she banged her head against the wall. "And supposedly she's here on Asgard, but doesn't even want to know where I am. And how am I even going to find her? Fuck this!"

"Ideally she would be here," Ana straightened up. "It's always been an unspoken rule that no one is supposed to mess around with humans that way because it creates complications. But if you cooperate while you're here we might actually be able to help you," she explained.

"I don't need anyone's help," she grumbled. "I can do fine on my own. I have always managed to get by without anyone's help."

"Mhm," Ana nodded. Somehow she seemed to understand where Neena was coming from.

"I refuse to bow to Odin. Fucking pirate."

"I've only done so once, and that's only because I couldn't stand any longer," she snickered.

"If you're over eight hundred, why don't you look old? What skin products are you using?"

Ana laughed, rolling her eyes, "We age much slower than humans do. When we get a certain age it is like we stop aging altogether. And since you are a halfling, you might even have this trait."

"Who the hell knows," she grumbled, still finding it rather odd that the woman was being nice to her. They were just fighting yesterday; why was she being nice to her? "Why are you being nice to me? Did tall, dark and creepy put you up to this?"

Ana shook her head, golden curls looking like waves on her shoulders. "He suggested that I come talk to you, but I came down here of my own accord. Loki isn't exactly good with handling emotions."

"Well no shit," she grumbled before giving a cough. Her head was still hurting, and her nose was feeling stuffy. Wonderful. She just got to this shit hole and she was already sick. "Great, I've got a cold. Why is it so cold down here?"

"Because you're in the dungeons," Ana offered with an amused smile, moving her hair out of her face. "You have plenty of blankets, so I don't understand why you are this cold."

"I live in New Mexico. It NEVER gets cold in New Mexico. I hate being cold," she kept her toes inside the blanket, shivering still. "How long do I have to stay down here again?"

"Until you acquire some manners and abide by Odin's wishes," Ana replied, rolling her eyes at mere thought of listening to Odin. "At at the rate you're going, it could be quite a long time. You're not going to win a battle against him, so might I suggest you at least try and do what he says."

Alright, so maybe Ana had a point. Maybe she was being a little too stubborn, but who could blame her? If someone else were in her position, what would they do? " _Probably not act like you did,"_ she nagged to herself. " _If there was someone else in your shoes right now, they would not be here."_ As much as she didn't want to listen to her conscious, she knew it was right. "There are some fights you cannot win," her father would say to her sometimes. "Sometimes you need to accept defeat and go on from there."

"I would like to get out of here," she admitted rather begrudgingly. "What are the rooms here like?"

"The beds are luxurious, I'm not exaggerating," Ana admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "The rooms are far too fancy for my liking, but I'm not complaining by any means."

"Sure," she nodded her head. There was a moment of silence before her stomach growled, causing Ana to smile again. She blushed a light pink, placing her hands on her stomach. "Which is safe to eat and won't kill me?"

"No person or thing is going to kill you here," Ana sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'd have to suggest those green leafy vegetables there and mix it in with the meat. If you get the chance, you must dine with Volstagg. The food here is much more nutritious as well as delicious than what I ate on Midgard. I did my shopping here," she smiled.

"Hey, leave McDonald's alone," she found herself laughing, the sound ringing rather oddly in her ears. The very mention of earth made her stomach churn and the ugly feeling of homesickness returned. "Did they notify my Dad?" she asked quietly.

Ana shook her head. "I don't know," she said softly. "I personally don't hold Odin to his word, but to put yourself at ease you can just assume so."

"And if they didn't?"

Ana stood up, smoothing out her blue t-shirt and jean shorts. "I'll let Frigga know you're willing to cooperate," the look on her face reminded her that she was possibly her ticket out of jail. "A guard should come retrieve you later and show you to your room. Sound good?"

"Fine."

She left after that, leaving her to sit in her boring old jail cell. When she was sure Ana was gone, she took the tray of food back and stuck her fork in one of the leafy greens. She brought it to her mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing. "Damnit," she glared down at the food. "She was right; this is pretty good."

* * *

Just like Ana said, a guard did eventually come and retrieve her. The other prisoners in the cells around leered at her, or made threats in languages she didn't understand. The second she was away from the noise, she relaxed a bit more. The guard leading her to wherever she was supposed to didn't say anything. His face was like stone, blank and impassive. In his hand he carried some staff or maybe it was a sword; she didn't know. The one thing she did notice was that he was extremely tall. Actually, now that she thought about it, everyone here was tall. She was barely five feet; something she had supposedly inherited from her Grandmother.

She almost bumped into him when he stopped walking. She was standing outside two long double doors with gold handles on them that looked recently polished "This is where the All-Father has decided you will stay," he told her stiffly, eyes cast down on her as if she were a bug he wanted to squish. " _Halfling."_

She could feel her face turning red, almost tempted to feel ashamed. "Thanks, asshole," she opened the door, shutting it behind her before he could say something. She could hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and she let out a sigh of relief. "What an ass," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "It's not like I asked to be here."

The room was just like Ana said it would be. Too fancy and a little too large for her liking. The walls were a deep gold, with tapestries on them burning brightly and creating warmth in the room. A queen sized bed stood at the far end with the sheets looking so warm and inviting. The doors nearby were opened and she stepped through them, finding a nice sized balcony to lean on. She closed her eyes, the smell of the air so different from the New Mexico wind. It was cool, making her nose twitch slightly at the impact. When she opened her eyes, she could see the whole kingdom stretch out before her for miles on end. It looked like a village for the commoners was below her and if she listened hard enough, she could hear the laughter and voices from the people down below. The lights from the streets gave it a homey feel, and a faint smile grew on her lips.

She decided the best thing to do was to go to sleep on the rather comfortable looking bed before her. It lay in the far center of the room against a wall, lying on a sort of platform with two steps to get up to it. Silk gold sheets looked so inviting, she flopped down on them. The soft mattress was so inviting; her body feeling like it was on a cloud. She was out the minute her head hit the pillows, drifting into the most relaxing sleep she'd ever had.

When she woke up, it was to the sound of birds chirping loudly on the balcony and the sun's warm beams bathing her room in light. She slowly sat up, body awake and refreshed as she stared around the room. It was too big; not small and comfortable like her room back at home. No Moutain Dew yellow walls, no Captain America shrine. It was like she was one of those shallow rich girls at school that she tended to mock. This place was so foreign; so unfamiliar.

"It's not home," she found herself saying aloud, the ring on her finger gleaming. "But for now it will have to do."

"Ahem."

She jumped, moving her head to see a girl maybe a few years older than herself standing before her. She was tall, with long caramel brown hair held up in a neat bun with not a single strand of hair loose. Her golden brown eyes were timid, and she stared at the floor as she spoke. "I'm sorry, Miss," she began in a quiet tone. "I am to here to assist you by orders of the Queen."

"Uh, hi," she offered, relaxing a little as the tall girl continued to stare at the floor. "I'm Neena."

"Yes, I know."

"Shit, does everybody know my name?" she asked, now feeling quite stupid for saying that. Man, these aliens were right. She did have her foot in her mouth all the time. Damn. "Uh, ignore that. What's your name?"

"Ingrid," the girl replied softly.

There was a slight moment of silence while the girl began to move around, walking with quiet footsteps towards a large closet filled with an assortment of clothes. She pulled out a long, A-line royal blue with a brush sweep headline and train dress. The fabric was silk-like satin and it had beading and pleats that resembled flowers and vines. There was a sleeve on the left that was lace and like the dress, it was adorned with flowers and vines. Her mouth dropped. "No way," she gasped, dread filling in her stomach and she tumbled out of bed to hurry over and look at it. "Do I have to wear that?"

Ingrid looked confused. "All the ladies here wear dresses," she paused, a light blush filling her cheeks. "Except for Lady Sif and Lady Anastasia."

"Why doesn't she have to wear dresses? Why can't I wear some normal clothes?"

"Normal...clothes?"

She waved her hand. "Forget it," she grumbled, flopping on the bed in an ungraceful manner that made the serving girl cringe. "So, why are you here exactly? No offence, but I think I can get into a dress by myself."

Ingrid just laid the dress on a table with quiet, graceful hands. She didn't say anything except for smooth the material out, eyes unmoving and focused on the task at hand. "Queen Frigga assigned me this task and I will do so with honor. Since you are under the Queen's protection, she offered me to be one of your handmaidens for however long you stay here," she turned around, hands on hips. "So whether you like it or not, I am here," she then blushed, all the firmness from her eyes vanishing. "Was that too mean? I apologize."

Neena just blinked. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't know; force of habit?" she said weakly. "Now, would you like to bathe before you get dressed? You have been here for over two days and you look…"

"Gross?"

"Oh no!" she pleaded, eyes widening to the size of golf balls. "I could never say that! I don't want to offend you or-"

"Relax; I know I smell bad. You don't think I wouldn't notice?" she smirked, finding this girl to be rather amusing. "Yeah, a bath sounds nice right now. Where is it?"

"Just this way; follow me," Ingrid opened a door that she hadn't noticed before. A large bathtub that appeared to be carved in the floor was filled with water. The high ceiling almost made her feel uneasy, but the water looked so inviting. "You may get undressed now, my lady. Or do you need my help?"

Her face flushed red. "No!" she protested as Ingrid moved forward. "I can get undressed myself, thank you very much."

Ingrid just stood there patiently, hands crossed in front of her. Neena just flushed darker. "Um, could you turn the hell around? I can't get undressed with you staring at me."

"Oh! Right! Sorry!"

Ingrid turned pink, turning around and covering her face with her hands. She rolled her eyes, but stripped out of the gray dress she was now getting used to wearing. "Good riddance!" she grumbled as she kicked the thing aside. She kept the ring on her finger, not sure on where to put it and cleared her throat. "Done!" she called out, covering herself with her arms.

She walked into the water, glad the warm water covered all of her body besides her head. Ingrid pulled out a few bottles of oils. "I brought some oils that the Queen suggested. I don't know if you like them."

"I don't care, I just want to be clean!"

Ingrid hid her smile. "Of course."

While she was perfectly okay with bathing herself, Ingrid insisted on washing her hair, no matter how much she protested. In the end she lost, grumbling curses and allowing the girl's nimble fingers to rub her scalp and put in the oils to clean her hair. She did, however, allow her to clean her body, so she had to be at least a little grateful for that.

When she was snuggly wrapped in a towel looking thing, Ingrid led her back into the room. "May I brush your hair?" she asked gently. "And uh, how do you want me to do it?"

"I don't care; just brush it," she shrugged her shoulders before narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What's with the getup anyway? What's going on?"

Ingrid glanced nervously. "You're dining with the king and queen and their sons. Oh, and Lady Anastasia if she's there. She comes and goes sometimes."

She just stared at her in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? You've got to be fucking kidding me!" she paced around the room in the towel, ignoring Ingrid's look of embarrassment. "I have to have dinner with the asshole? Oh hell no!"

"Lady Neena!" Ingrid moved around her, trying to make her sit back down on the ottoman. "You mustn't say that about the All-Father. It's very disrespectful."

"I don't give a shit," she hissed as she was forced back down. "Who else is going to be there again?"

"The Queen, her sons, and possibly Lady Anastasia."

"You mean tall, dark and creepy is going to be there?"

"Beg your pardon?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "The dark one that looks like a goat with all that armor."

"Oh, you mean Prince Loki? Yes, he will be there."

"Good. I can kick some sense into that asshole for using me as a potato sack!"

Ingrid just looked confused and opened her mouth to say something, but ended up saying something else. "About your hair. How would you like to wear it? I've never really done hair this short," she lifted up the strands of black hair, letting them fall through her fingers. "Maybe I could curl it?"

"Or you could leave it alone?" she offered, hoping the servant would get the hint.

"No, you must have your hair done," Ingrid took her hair again, examining her head as if it were some difficult math problem. "I think for your hair, we'll just do a simple bun. Does that sound good?"

"Fine. Whatever. Or you know, you could just leave it alone?"

"No."

She slumped forward, almost tempted to bang her head on the vanity. Ingrid just hummed under her breath, gathering strands of her hair to brush with the golden hair brush. Her hands were gentle, soft against her scalp. She couldn't help but feel at ease as the woman brushed her hair. Her dad would never take the time to make sure her hair had been brushed thoroughly; he would stick it in a braid or ponytail and that would be it.

In no time her hair was done and almost dried. She took one look in the mirror and almost did a double take. Unrecognizable. Her hair was pulled all the way back into a bun With only a few strands falling in front of her face. She didn't wear earrings too often, but two pearls had been stuck in her ears and Ingrid was gathering the dress. "You'll have to wear a corset. I'm afraid you have...well, no figure. Do you know what I mean?"

She blushed angrily. "I know I have no figure; I'm fourteen! Geez, make things awkward why don't you?"

Ingrid shrugged. "I can't help these things, my lady. Now, what shoes do you want to wear?"

"Just pick a pair. Just don't make them high heels!"

"Yes, my lady."

Ingrid returned over with the dress, motioning for her to drop the towel. She slid the corset around the front, ignoring Neena's now tomato red face. Putting the corset on took longer than either of them expected and by the time it was finally on, she wanted to rip it off so she could breathe again. Ingrid grabbed the dress, sliding it past her head and lacing it in the back. "All ready," the tall woman announced, face shining with pride. "I believe that you almost look like a true Asgardian."

"Fuck."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, yay."

Ingrid gave her a warning look. "You better be on your best behavior when talking with the All-father. He does not like rude people in his presence."

"No shit sherlock? You think I haven't figured that out by now?"

Ingrid nodded thoughtfully. "Just mind yourself, please?" she asked, waiting for her to reply. "I would hate for you to be in the dungeons. Again."

"I'll try," she grumbled, stumbling in the shoes as she walked. "Why do I have to wear these shoes? This dress hides my feet; can't I go barefoot?"

"Absolutely not!" Ingrid gasped. "Young ladies do not go around barefoot!"

"Well they do in my world," she sighed, knowing she was losing a battle she wouldn't win. "Fine, but just for tonight. I make no promises in the future."

"Very well," the caramel haired woman motioned for her to follow her down the hall. She sulked the entire way, arms crossed in front of her and a permanent scowl etched onto her face. Ingrid pushed back a pair of golden double doors, the sound of harps and other instruments greeting her and the smell of food made her stomach growl with hunger. Ingrid whispered softly in her ear. "Just be polite and it'll be over quickly. Please don't make a scene."

"For the third time tonight, no promises."

She seemed satisfied enough with that answer and stepped back towards the walls with a few other handmaidens. Odin sat at the head of the table, eyepatch looking as ugly as ever and adorned in gold armor. Frigga sat at the end of the table in a long-sleeved silver gown. Thor and Loki sat across from one another, with an empty seat next to Loki. She took the seat next to Thor, wishing she could sit somewhere else. While waiting awkwardly, Thor turned to her with eager eyes. "Do you have anymore of those delicious tacoos? We should serve those at my coronation in two weeks!"

She could see Odin roll his one good eye and Frigga just sighed patiently. Of course tall, dark and creepy had to give an eye roll. "They're called tacos," she replied, making a face. "Not tacoos."

"What's the difference?" the blonde asked innocently. "They're delicious either way."

"Don't bother," Loki commented casually. "You'll never win."

"I can see that," she looked towards the empty chair. "Did she run away or did you leave her on her leash?"

"She will be joining us shortly," he replied politely. "Any more questions?"

She attempted to kick him under the table, but she just ended up kicking the table and stubbed her toe. Loki smirked in amusement, but rolled his eyes at the childish attempt to injure him. Frigga then turned to her with a beautiful smile. "How are you adjusting? I know your room must be different from your one back home."

"It's fine," she answered back politely, taking a sip from her goblet and cringing at the taste of ale. "A lot different. My walls back home are Mt. Dew colored."

Thor frowned. "How did you get a mountain in your room?"

She wanted to smack her head on the table. "It's the name of a beverage and the color is yellow," she tried to explain, but Thor just looked even more confused. "Never mind, I won't even bother trying to explain the rest."

"Didn't I warn you?" Loki stated maliciously, but Thor obviously didn't understand the tone of his voice.

"Fu-!" she started, but then glanced at Frigga and Odin. "Uh, my room is a lot warmer than the dungeon."

"If you want to remain in your room, remember your manners," Odin spoke for the first time that evening. "Unless you want to spend more time in the dungeon."

"No thanks," she replied hastily. "I think I'll remain in the room I'm in now."

Loki smirked again and she couldn't help it. She tried to kick him again, and she succeeded in doing so this time, but she ended up hitting gold armor. Shooting pain shot through her foot and she cringed. Thor looked towards his mother. "May we have Tacoos at my coronation?"

"I don't think the cooks know how to make Tacos," the queen glanced at her with a smile. "Unless Neena here wants to show them how to cook them."

"You don't want me anywhere near the kitchens!" she exclaimed, images of the last time she cooked flashing before her eyes. "Plus I don't think you have the right ingredients."

Thor pouted. "Why not?"

Damn, this guy was obtuse. "Because," she ground out, tempted to throttle this guy and make him see sense. "I don't know how to make them and last time I checked, no one is Asgard knows how to make corn tortillas!"

"...What's a tortilla?"

"Oh my God!"

The door opened again and Ana walked in, looking at Thor in exasperation. "Midgardian food is not for the likes of the future king of Asgard," she fluffed his hair as she walked around the table and sat down next to Loki.

Thor still looked disappointed, but kept quiet after that. Neena frowned. "How come you get to wear jeans? Can you please get me a pair? And I need my combat boots!"

"I'm not Asgardian," she raised a glass before taking a sip.

"I need my boots!" she complained, glaring down at her feet. "I can't stand these shoes; they hurt my feet."

"Can't help you there," Ana smirked.

" _Bitch,"_ she thought to herself, but didn't say it outloud, but she had no doubt her face made it quite clear about what she was thinking. Then, she turned to Odin. "So, uh, All-Father, did you contact my Dad?"

Odin didn't say anything; he just glanced at Frigga. Frigga cleared her throat. "We'll discuss it later, dear."

That didn't sound good. A sense of dread filled her and she dug her nails into her palms to keep her hands from trembling. Ana gave her a quick look, but didn't say anything. The rest of dinner just seemed to drag on forever, with Thor eating like a pig and Loki and Ana having those disgustingly cute couple conversations. Odin was quiet; no shock there and Frigga just wore a small smile. She just wanted to run away from the table, grow a pair of wings and fly away from this hell hole. What happened to her father? Was he okay? Did something happen?

She ate her meal quietly, the food tasting dry and tasteless in her mouth. Everyone else continued to talk, but her mind wasn't at all focused on what they were discussing. She heard bits and pieces about a coronation that was supposed to take place, but that's really all she heard and chose to process in. Then the queen began to speak. "So, Neena, where do you live on Midgard?"

"Puente Antiguo," she said flatly. "I've lived there for seven years."

"Where did you live before that?"

She paused, shaking her head slightly. "I don't remember," she began, clearly lying and she could feel everyone stare at her. "It was a long time ago."

Thor just threw his goblet of ale down. "ANOTHER!" He called out in a merry voice. She jumped in her seat, clearly not expecting him to do that. Loki and Ana just smirked at her and though she wanted to say nasty things to them, she didn't. She would save that for later.

"Why did you move?" Frigga asked patiently, obviously curious.

"I don't want to talk about it," shit, she didn't like how they were prying into her personal affairs. There were some obvious skeletons in her closet that she didn't want to look at right now, thank you very much. "Now could you please stop asking me questions? I want to know about my Dad. What's happened to him?"

Frigga just cleared her throat. "We will talk about it later, alright?" the way she said it allowed no more on the conversation; that she would not talk about it any further. "Now, Thor, we have much to discuss about your coronation."

That was it. Just like that, she faded back into the background, as if she didn't exist. She dug her nails into her palms again, trying to fight back the urge to yell or something. Why wasn't anyone giving her answers? She could feel blood slide under her nails; palms stinging with pain. She felt sick; like she might pass out at any minute. " _Sons of bitches!"_ she thought to herself. " _What happened to Dad? What if he's hurt? Did I do something? Shit, I'm sorry Daddy; I'm sorry I failed you. If they hurt you, I swear to God I'll hurt them back."_

She poked at her food; not feeling hungry anymore. She poked at the meat, not really sure what it was, but it didn't look very appetizing. Neither did the vegetables and fruits; or bread for that matter. The ale or whatever the hell she was drinking was too bitter and left a sour taste in her mouth. The blood on her hands was beginning to dry, but she still felt ill. She twitched slightly, sensing at least two pairs of eyes on her. Could this dinner be done already?

"Neena," came Ana's concerned voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she ground out, hands trembling at her side. Shit, she was going to break any second. "I'm fine." She repeated, just for good measure.

"Alright," Ana nodded, clearly not believing her.

"Yup," she mumbled. " _Pull yourself together!"_ she lectured to herself. " _Don't draw anymore attention to yourself. They'll just throw you in the dungeon again or worse."_

"Here," Ana conjured up a different drink in her hand. "Try this," she offered it to her.

"Thanks," she said flatly, taking the drink. She drank the clear drink; surprised that it tasted good. Instantly, the pain in her palms disappeared and the blood vanished, but it didn't calm the panic that was slowly forming in her. Any minute, she was going to snap and get herself in trouble. Ana just glanced at Loki, who was busy cutting his food like the fucking queen of England. She suddenly felt the desire to throw food at him, preferably peas, but since they didn't have that on Asgard, she would have to make do with something else. However, Odin would probably, no, definitely get mad and throw her in the dungeons permanently.

Ana rose from the table, smoothing out her clothes, "If I may excuse myself, I have things to attend to." She looked at Neena, "Would you care to join me?" she offered.

"Sure," she started hesitantly, looking to Frigga. The older woman nodded her head, allowing her to leave with Ana. She followed Ana down the hall, almost close to the point of hyperventilating. When was the last time she got this stressed? She needed to hit something. Now!

"Just a little bit further," she heard Ana say.

"Where are we going?" she asked between clenched teeth.

"You'll see," she smirked, rounding a corner to a door that seemed to go absolutely nowhere. "Right behind this door," she gestured for Neena to open it. She practically threw the door open, surprised by the site in front of her. Mountains, larger than the ones she had seen on earth, lay before her.

"Why are we here?" she asked. "What's so special about some damn mountains? Don't tell me you want to go climbing?"

"Everybody needs a place to escape to, no?" she shrugged.

"I guess," she sat down on a bench, head in her hands. "Fuck, why does shit always happen?"

"I'm no philosopher, but I'd guess that shit happens for a reason," Ana joked.

"Oh ha ha," she grumbled. "Well, if my existing is reason enough, then I guess I deserve it. Do you know how many times I've been called a halfling today?"

"About as many times I've been called a monster, perhaps," she said nonchalantly. "You can question your existence as much as you'd like, but you're not going to disappear."

"Who said anything about disappearing?" she snapped. "I just want to know what happened to my Dad. What kind of person brings up the topic and then dismisses it like its nothing?"

Ana remained silent for a moment, "If I knew, I would tell you, but this is Asgard, so things are done a bit idiotically here."

"Yeah, well, I've had it!" she stood up, removing the shoes and tossing them to the ground. "And I'm done doing what they want. They want me to cooperate; then they better tell me what happened to Dad," she kicked the shoes away, glaring heatedly at them. "He's all I have. If something happened to him, then there's no one left."

"I'll take you to the queen soon so she can tell you," Ana told her. "And if you didn't like the shoes, you could've just said so," she added with a smile.

"Well Ingrid wouldn't let me," she inwardly cursed the handmaiden. "She said something about it not being proper and refused to get me a different pair."

"Let me share a little secret with you," Ana sat down on the bench. "They talk all high and mighty, but if you're as stubborn as me, they can't do shit, pardon my French," she laughed. "Next time just tell her that I said you didn't have to."

"Alright," she shrugged, feeling a little bit better. "Can I go see the queen now? And maybe tall, dark and creepy so I can give him a proper kick to the shins."

"I suppose I can take you. But I'm afraid you can't kick Loki, that's a task reserved for me," she smirked, knowing it would disgust her at least a little bit.

"Ew, you're gross, Barbie," she wrinkled her nose distastefully. "I knew you two were into some kinky business."

"To each their own," she grinned. "Come along now, just promise you won't kill anybody along the way?" she asked sarcastically.

"Please, everyone here is too damn tall," Neena rolled her eyes. "Like I could kill anybody; they'd probably just laugh."

"If only you knew how great of an advantage that would be," she commented, getting up and holding the door open to get back to the palace. "In you go," she waved.

"Thanks," she nodded as Ana walked forward back to the dining hall, since she had no idea where it was. "Barbie."

"You're welcome, Tiny," she teased as they entered the dining hall once more. Ana motioned for Frigga to join them and the three made their way out of the hall once more. Thor and Odin had already left, probably to discuss the coronation.

Frigga stood patiently, with a sign of caution on her face. "Neena, child," she ignored the annoyed look she gave her. "About your father…"

"Yeah?" she asked eagerly. "Tell me! Is he okay? Please, say something!"

Frigga shared a quick look with Ana and somehow communicated something to her. She couldn't stand it anymore; she grabbed the queen's arm, the guards drawing their weapons. "Tell me!" Ana couldn't even meet her eyes.

Frigga sighed. "Neena, we sent someone to your house to tell your father that you are alive and well. But, when we got there, there was nothing left. The house had been burned to the ground and your father...well, the guard found his body. The fire didn't kill him, it appeared he was stabbed and bled out," she queen gave her a sad look, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry; if there's anything I can do…"

The world seemed to come to an end right then and there. It felt like someone had slapped her in the face or punched her. Her words were caught in her throat, nails scratching her palms as she tried to speak. Her father couldn't be dead. He couldn't be! "You're lying!" she whispered, lower lip trembling. "He can't be dead; he can't be!"

Frigga just held something in her palm. It was a Native American beaded necklace; the one her father would always wear. "We found this on the body. I'm sorry, Neena, but your father is gone. We will find who did this and they will be punished, I assure you."

"I DON'T CARE!" She screamed, tears falling down her face. "You think vengence will bring him back? He...he can't be dead," her voice cracked and she felt like collapsing. "Tell me this isn't happening…"

"Neena," Ana said softly, "I'm afraid that it did happen." She didn't offer her any advice or kind gestures, just genuine sympathy.

"No," she shook her head, not wanting to believe it. "No, no, no, no, no! He...he wouldn't leave me behind! He's all I have! This...this can't be real!"

She ran out of the room, not entirely sure where she was going. She had to get out; find a way and get of this hell hole. She needed to go home and see for herself. " _Where do I even go?"_ she asked herself. " _I need to go home! I can't stay here; I'll go crazy! I'll figure out a way on my own. I won't go into the foster system!"_

She threw open a door to another room, the balcony door open on the other side. She stepped out onto it, looking over the edge. Numbly, she stared down the edge, wondering where it went. "If I jump, it will all be over…" she trailed off, knees shaking at the very thought. "I can be with Dad and this nightmare will be over."

"Jumping would be futile as we have Thor who can fly to your rescue and then a number of us can simply use magic to break your fall," she heard a voice say from behind her. "I don't like my time wasted."

"I don't give a shit about what you like," she spat, biting her lip hard enough for it to bleed. "Go away; and let me be."

"I believe that situations like this require me to stay. I am still learning common moral courtesies, so do be patient with me," he spoke almost honestly. "Or is there someone else you would rather keep you company over there?"

"My life means nothing to you," she said without any trace of feeling in her voice. "I don't care what you do. I don't belong here and you know it."

"Yet here you are. But if you really must, do jump. I cannot stop you," he explained.

She could hear her Dad's voice in her head, but it was drowned out by the throbbing headache forming. "I can be free," she smiled faintly, talking without any thought in her words. "I can finally be free."

She lifted herself over the balcony, taking a leap into the empty air. The feeling of being weightless was liberating and she closed her eyes, preparing for the impact. " _I'm on my way, Daddy. Don't you leave me behind! I'm coming home."_

Then she blacked out, not even remembering hitting the ground.


	4. Back to the dungeon!

**Author's note:** _Yup, I'm back again! Fall break starts today and I'm done with classes till Monday! Yay! Anyway, thanks to Much Ado 96 and her wonderful support!_

 ** _Warnings:_** _Meh, none really_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I own nothing._

* * *

Instead of warm light, she was met with cold air. Her eyes instantly opened and instantly there was pain. She let out a yelp and sat up, surprised that she was lying in her bed. "What the fuck? she asked herself, events of last night returning. "Am I dead? This can't be heaven! Dad? Dad, where are you?"

"No Dad here I'm afraid," Loki entered the room with a tray of tea. "I told you what would happen," he set the tray down on the bed, unsure of what to do next.

"Fuck off," the reminder of her father's death brought the weight of sadness back. She took the tea in her hands, staring down at the mixture. "What happened?"

"Many things. Ana warned me relatively quickly that you were not reacting well to the news, so I created the illusion for you. That way you could experience your choice without it being final. It was a rather clever idea, I must admit," he took a cup of tea for himself.

"Pompous much?" she grumbled, drinking the tea to soothe her dry throat. It tasted like the tea her Dad used to make. "Bad shit tends to happen around me. My Grandparents say I'm cursed; the spawn of a demon."

Loki set down his tea, "You should realize that I am not the right one to have this discussion with," he reminded her.

"You don't have to listen," she set down her own cup, gathering the blanket around her like a coat. She stared down at her lap blankly. "Where do I go from here? I have nowhere else to go."

"Need I remind you that you are a guest in the palace of most powerful of all the Nine Realms?"

"Well that's fucking wonderful. Any other good news you'd like to share?" she snapped, hiding further in the blanket.

He thought about the question for a moment. "I shouldn't tell you this, but I will. Anastasia spoke with me earlier and she explained why she asked me to create the illusion for you. Mind you she has tried to end her life more times than she could count. The act puts life in perspective apparently," he trailed off.

"Should have just let me die; it would have spared you all the trouble." she wiped away the tears. "I thought you weren't a touchy-feely kind of guy?"

"I am not that type of man, but that doesn't mean I don't have a conscience," he took another casual sip of tea. "Besides, I'm not the only one here with opinions."

"What are you getting at?" she moved the hair from her eyes, the blanket falling to her shoulders.

"I'm telling you that people here actually care about you and would not like to see harm come to you, albeit that there are always exceptions," he explained simply.

"Name some people," she ordered quietly. "The only one who ever truly cared about me is dead. After all the sacrifices he made, he ended up dying." She dug her nails into her flesh, trying to stop the sobbing fit that was threatening to erupt.

"One, stop hurting yourself. Ana has been healing you all night long," he reprimanded her. "Second the queen cares, Anastasia does, as do Thor and I. Ingrid cares. Anyone you got to know here cares. Believe it or not. Do not let your father's death be in vain," he advised.

She paused, now feeling rather embarrassed. Her cheeks burned with shame and she blinked back more tears. " _He's right,"_ she admitted to only herself; she would never say it outloud. " _I have to keep going. I'll find a way home and give him a proper burial. Then I won't have to step foot here ever again."_ She stared at him, frowning. "You care? I highly doubt that."

"Doubt what you will. You heard me say it the first time," he smirked.

"Can you stop being an asshole for one minute?" she snapped, throwing the blanket off herself and standing up. Her legs were weaker than she thought and she instantly fell over flat on her face. "Fuck!"

Loki rose and helped her back into bed, ignoring her request since it was likely impossible for him not to be a snarky asshole. "Ana should be in shortly to heal you some more," he told her.

"Fine," she lay back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. "What am I going to do?" she asked, biting her lip in worry and she fingered the beaded necklace around her neck. "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

"Most people don't." he stated point blank. "But it is up to you what you do from here."

She didn't know why she said it, but it came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "Teach me magic," she asked, almost wondering why she even asked. "If I'm going to be here, I need to do something productive."

Loki almost choked on his tea. "I doubt you have the dedication for the art," he excused.

She narrowed her eyes. "Try me," she crossed her arms. "I don't want to be useless. I need to do something if I'm going to be here for a while."

He stared at her for a long moment, contemplating her request, though she couldn't predict the answer. "Prove to me you have what it takes," he told her. "Then I might teach you."

"How?"

"Be creative," he smirked, clearly enjoying the amusement of that possibility.

"Creative in what?"

"Magic is only as effective as the mind utilizing it," he shrugged, pouring himself more tea.

"Damn it," she grumbled, fingering the beads on her neck. Looking at him, she frowned. "Can you stop what you're doing?"

He raised a brow, "And what would that be?"

"You have the perfect posture for a picture. Do you have any paper? A pencil? Fuck, a pen will be fine."

"Check under your pillow," he told her plainly, seemingly unfazed by her statement.

She lifted her pillow, finding a pad of unlined notebook paper and a pencil. "If you move, I will hit you," she stated before rambling to herself. "Why didn't I see it before? Shit, you have the perfect eyebrows!"

"Flattery will gain you nothing," he nearly laughed, obviously already knowing what she said was true.

"I'm not being flattering," she rolled her eyes. "I'm still injured, so I need something to do. You happen to have perfect eyebrows, so I must draw them. It is my duty as the daughter of an artist," she nodded, leaning back and already shaping the outline of his body. She wouldn't let him see her work, too focused on the task at hand. He simply sat still, sipping his tea, content in the silence.

She hummed for a few minutes, totally forgetting he was there and then began to start singing an Apache hymn her father had taught her. Drawing his face was a bit difficult, but she didn't care. This was the perfect specimen to practice her abilities on. It would make her father proud that she was still doing what he taught her. She shaded in his dark hair that lay neatly on his head; not a single strand out of place.

Ana snuck in through the doorway, walking quietly over to Neena and peeking at what she was doing. "How are you feeling?" she inquired.

"Fine," she commented, still focused on the task at hand.

"Let me see your hands," she held out her palms expectantly.

She set the picture down and gave the woman her hands. She felt a shit ton of pain and yelped, glaring up at Ana. "Ow," she grumbled. "Why does it have to hurt so much?"

"Because my healing reverses the injuries so you feel the pain, but it's only backwards," she explained.

"Well it still fucking hurts," she picked up the notebook and pencil. "Now, where was I..."

Ana stood up from the bed and began to leave but Loki caught her arm, "Are you alright, darling?"

She forced a weak smile, "I just need some rest, that's all."

"You don't look well," he pulled her next to him so she was sitting on the arm of his chair. Neena studied them for a moment, the two of them unaware of what she was doing. While they were chatting, she made a quick outline of Ana'a body, adding her blonde hair soon after.

"It was a long night," she tried to joke, but Loki only rolled his eyes at her. "No, but I'm fine," she reassured him.

"Yet you are pale and your eyes have fallen heavy. I think you are lying," he shook a quick finger at her. She slid down from the arm and into his lap, wrapping an arm over his shoulders.

"I suppose I am a tad exhausted," she sighed, glancing over at Neena. "So you're posing for a portrait, I see?" she changed the subject.

"I was merely sitting here enjoying my tea. My posture is perfect as you may have already known," he smirked at her, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down her leg.

"How could I have missed it?" she teased, running her fingers absent-mindedly through his hair, ignoring the annoyed look on his face. "You really should grow it out," she commented.

"Yup," Neena agreed, nodding her head but not looking up from her work. "I agree."

Loki and Ana then began to speak in whispers, their faces lacking usual smirks and smiles. Loki only nodded, trying to convince her of something, but she seemed to be refusing. He must have convinced her of whatever it was since she leaned in and kissed him for a long moment.

She cleared her throat, looking up from the finished picture. "Ew, PDA," she smirked, trying to pretend she wasn't feeling awkward.

Ana pulled away from him, looking slightly brighter than she was a moment earlier. "Better now?" Loki asked, wiping blood from his lip.

"A little bit," she smiled.

"So…" Neena trailed off, now wanting to do nothing more than leave the room. "Your picture's done. I'll just leave it here."

She stood up to leave, but ended up falling over again, much to her embarrassment and annoyance. "Damn," she groaned, smacking her head on the floor. "Why am I so weak?"

Ana got up and sat herself down across from Neena. "Well, as Loki explained, you had kind of committed suicide in the illusion we created for you. Everything you felt and did was real and it affected your body, so when you hit the ground, your bones broke, you lost a lot of blood, and you damaged all of your organs, but you did so all in the safety of your bed. Does that make sense?"

Well, that just sounded confusing, but she got the jist of it. "Fuck," she muttered into the floor, not remembering any of it. "Damn, that sounds bad."

"It wasn't exactly fun to listen to either. Breaking bones isn't the most pleasant sound," Ana offered with a weak smile, trying to be lighthearted.

That didn't make her feel any better; it only made her feel irritated, but she sat up. Taking the notepad off the bed, she handed it towards Ana. "Here," she plopped it in the blonde's lap. "Hope you like it, Barbie."

Ana picked up the notepad in her hands and studied it carefully, her grey eyes revealing nothing. Then she smirked, "It's pretty good, Tiny." She held it up for Loki to see from his chair and he nodded, hiding any hint that he might be impressed.

"You can keep it," she leaned back on the floor. "I don't want it. And you're welcome."

"We'll certainly hold onto it," Ana smiled, tearing the portrait from the pad carefully before it disappeared to God knows where.

"When can I go to home?" she asked for the umpteenth time since she arrived in this weird place. "Dad…" she trailed off before sighing. "Needs a proper burial."

"I don't know," Ana admitted, looking to Loki for an answer but he only shrugged.

She frowned, putting more thought to it. She couldn't imagine it; her home burned to the ground. Her Captain America shrine, the paintings she and her father made and acquired over the years. All of it was gone. Except for one thing. "I need to go home," she said abruptly. "There's...something I need there."

"You would have to bring it up with either the queen of Odin," Ana explained.

"Where are they?"she asked, turning to Loki. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

Loki sighed, "The queen is most likely in the gardens and the All-Father is meeting with advisors somewhere in the palace. But only he can grant you passage to Midgard since Heimdal requires his orders."

"So, I'm going to be stuck here for a while?" she asked sullenly."

"That would be correct," Loki replied in a tone that didn't sound sorry at all. "I doubt the All-Father will grant you the right of passage."

She tried to stand up, legs feeling still a bit shaky, but a lot better than before. Loki and Ana were now in their own world; a world where it was only them and nothing else. Not wanting to be a third wheel in that party, she walked on shaky legs out the door and if they didn't want her to leave, they didn't say anything. "Good riddance," she rolled her eyes. She snorted at the thought of them. "Couples."

She didn't know where she was going or where she was going, but that wasn't her biggest concern. She walked slowly down the corridor, legs slowly getting stronger. Other servants milled around and didn't pay her any attention. A few guards eyed her warily, but otherwise were silent. Then, a hand reached out over her mouth and she was pulled into an empty room. "What the fuck?" she hissed as soon as the hand was removed. "Who-"

A hand was placed over her mouth again, a pair of brown eyes meeting hers. It was the same guard that delivered her to her room yesterday. "Be quiet!" the man hissed at her. "Do you want everyone is Asgard to hear us, you stupid halfling?"

Again with the name calling! She glared at him, half tempted to bite his hand off. "Will you be quiet?" he asked. "If you do, I'll remove my hand."

She nodded and slowly, the hand was removed. He waited a few seconds as if he were expecting her to shout or make a scene. When she didn't, he spoke again. "I overheard your talk with the Prince and his lady friend," his lips curled distastefully at the mention of Ana. "And I heard that you want to go to Midgard."

"Yes," she admitted, not liking his tone. "Why were you spying on us?"

"I was stationed to guard your door," he said simply. "And I have a proposition for you. Are you willing to listen?"

She didn't trust this guy; not at all. "I'm listening," she crossed her arms defiantly. "Go on."

"No one wants you here, _Halfling,"_ he sneered and she bristled, ready to strike him but he continued to speak. "I can get you to the Bifrost and have you sent to Midgard. Once you're there, you can never return here. Asgard has no need for half-breeds, nor do we have room for them."

She bristled yet again, ready to put this man in his place, but Loki's words echoed in her ear. The All-Father would definitely not allow her to go home, yet this man here was, offering her a way out. "Alright," she agreed, with almost no hesitation. "Do you promise that you will get me home? And that you won't try to kill me?"

"I promise," he nodded. "There would be nothing I would like better than to see you gone."

"And there is nothing I would like more than to never see you again," she sneered, following him out the door. "So, where is this "bifrost?'" she asked.

"Just follow me. And keep your mouth shut, understand? You talk more than any creature I've ever seen in my past two thousand years."

"Whatever you say, Grandpa," she followed him outside, watching as he mounted a beautiful brown stallion with ease.

He stared down at her, eyebrow raised in question. "What are you waiting for? Get on!"

"I can't reach!" these horses seemed a lot bigger than the ones back home. Just what were these people feeding them. "Why are your horses so damn huge?"

He leaned down, pulling her up by the arm. "Humans," he sniffed disdainfully. "Hold on. If you fall off, I won't catch you."

He gave the horse a slight kick, leading it to where he wanted it to go. For a good ten or fifteen minutes, they rode across the bridge in silence. It was an impressive bridge; she would give them that. The image of rainbows flashed across her eyes as the mid afternoon sun flashed across her face. The wind roared in her ears, and a large golden dome lay before her, still many minutes away across the long bridge. "How long is this thing?" she asked, trying to make her voice louder than the wind.

"A mile, at least!" he called back in a short tone that left no more room for discussion. "We're almost there!"

Five minutes later, he stopped the horse outside the golden dome. He hastily plucked her off the horse, pointing towards a man in golden armor standing behind a golden sword. "That's Heimdall," he began. "He'll get you through to Midgard. Now get out of here!"

He grabbed her by the arm, practically dragging her through the dome till they stood right in front of the dark skinned man with golden eyes. "Heimdall," the guard began, feigning politeness. "This child needs to return to her own world. Will you not open the gate and send her there?"

Heimdall lowered his gaze to meet hers. His golden eyes unnerved her; seeing as they betrayed no emotion. "The All-Father has not given her permission to leave," he stated simply, almost boredly. "I cannot let her pass."

"Listen here," the man was beginning to lose his patience. "Asgard has no room for _halflings_ " he looked at her in disgust. "Asgard is better off without her!"

"The All-Father did not give permission," Heimdall stated again with batting an eyelash. "And he is here."

"What?"

"Oh shit."

It was like they appeared out of nowhere. Odin was right in front of her with Gungnir in his hand and armor all over his body. Several guards were there along with Thor, Loki, and Ana. The latter two did not look impressed with the situation; Loki looking a little intrigued while Ana just looked disappointed. She had a feeling it was directed towards her, but she was too dumbstruck to do anything else but stand still, Odin's one good eye on her.

"You have deliberately disobeyed my orders, halfling," he stated with a cold voice, sending chills of fear down her spine. He then turned to the guard. "You are hereby relieved of your duty, as protector of Asgard."

"What? That's absurd!" the guard feigned hurt. "She made me take her; she threatened my life!"

"I did not!" she protested, not entirely shocked that he would do this, but the betrayal hit her like a block of ice. "He's lying! He said he would get me home!"

"Be quiet!" he snapped, drawing the sword from his belt. He grabbed her in a headlock, pressing the tip of the blade against her throat. She felt like throwing up, feeling the warm trickle of blood drip down her throat. The guard looked toward Odin. "All-Father, I just wanted what's best for Asgard! This _thing_ has been nothing but trouble since she got here! If we just get rid of her, then she won't be a problem anymore."

"Asshole!" she hissed, but gave a small cry of pain when he pressed the blade a bit firmer. "You promised you wouldn't try and kill me!"

"Release her this instant!" Odin ordered in steely voice.

"Unhand the child!" Thor voiced, hammer in motion; ready to strike.

On normal circumstances, she would have complained about being called a child, but she knew better than to do that here. She met Ana's now worried gaze, a bit frightened at the site of her giant pointy silver scepter and the almost murderous look she was giving the man. Loki just stood there calmly, watching it all play out with calculating eyes.

"Damn," she fought against the guard, trying to release herself from her captor. Rage was building up, a type of anger she hadn't felt for years. She had been only five years old when she felt this angry. She could feel the white hot fury building up inside her chest. How dare this man do this to her? How dare these people deny her a chance to get home. "Bastard," she glared up at the man, feeling nothing but spite towards him. "Burn in hell!"

The most unexpected thing happened next. He burst into flames; quickly letting go of her and she moved out of the way. He screamed, flailing around for a few seconds as the fire burned inside his armor. "Stop this immediately!" Odin hollered at Ana.

"It wasn't my doing!" she insisted, looking dumbfounded. Odin just turned to Loki, who simply shrugged.

"Then who is doing this?" Thor asked, obviously confused.

"Perhaps it was Neena," Loki suggested innocently. "She did say burn in hell."

Odin looked to her. "Cease the fire!" he commanded.

"I don't know how!" she sputtered, obviously confused.

Ana just conjured up a bucket of water, tossing it at the burning man. Instantly the fire stopped and his body lay lifeless on the ground. The stench of charred flesh made her stomach turn and she had to turn away in order to prevent herself from vomiting. She stood awkwardly, everyone's eyes on her. "What are you all looking at?" she snapped, blushing red. "Quit looking at me!"

Ana put her hands on Neena's shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "Neena," she began. "You did this." She tried to explain.

"What? How? I only told him to burn in hell…" she trailed off. "I couldn't actually set someone on fire! What the fuck? I...I couldn't have killed somebody!"

She wasn't a murderer, was she? She didn't actually mean for him to die; sure he was an ass, but that didn't mean she wanted him dead.

"Neena," Ana started again. "Please, nobody is accusing you of murder."

"Take her to high security dungeons at once!" Odin ordered sternly. "We'll keep there until we find out what happened here."

"You can't do this!" she called out, feeling the guards pull her away. "I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"

"Calm down; I'm coming with you!" Ana followed reassuringly.

"Fantastic!" she snarked, wincing as the guards yanked tightly on her arms. "Anyone else want to join the prison bandwagon?"

"Put Lady Ana in there as well," Odin commanded. "For the murder she committed two weeks prior."

"Go fuck yourself!" Ana spat, flipping him off as the guards and Neena caught Loki's look of amusement.

The cells they were forced into this time were more isolated than the rest. More guards were stationed to keep watch. Ana didn't even bother trying to escape, muttering something about how the force field was more intensive than the other cells. So Ana just sat down Indian style, arms crossed and glaring at nothing in particular. Of course, she did the exact opposite. She paced around, sputtering every curse under the sun while Ana just sat quietly.

"How can you just sit there?" she snapped. "And you murdered someone?"

"Unintentionally," Ana replied calmly.

"But that's still murder! How can you murder someone and still call it unintentional?"

"Very carefully," she shrugged.

"That doesn't make sense!" she shouted loud enough for the guards to turn around and give her an irritated look.

"What do you want me to tell you?" she asked, growing increasingly frustrated.

"I don't know; something!" she continued to pace, digging her nails into her palms for the tenth billionth time that day. "I set someone on fire! Shit! I'm so going to hell for this!"

"To be fair, it was an accident. I don't know how you did it though," she pondered the idea.

"Well that doesn't help anything!" she flopped down to the floor next to her. "Some stay this is turning out to be."

"You get used to it rather quickly," Ana reassured her. "Besides, Loki should be here to get us out sometime soon."

"He will?" she asked, very doubtful about that.

"He doesn't have much of a choice."

"Do I want to know what you're implying?" she asked hesitantly, fiddling with the ring around her finger.

"Probably not," she laughed, glancing at the ring she was playing with. "So where did you get the ring?"

"Oh, my Dad gave it to me," she swallowed hard at the mention of her dad. "The night before I got here. It belonged to my Mom, or something like that."

Ana reached over and held her hand out, "May I see it?" she requested.

"What? Oh, sure."

Ana took the brown ring and inspected it thoroughly in all the different lightings that were available. "This metal is of Asgard, and this bead," she trailed off, looking at it closely. "This is like nothing I've seen before…"

"Well that's just fan fucking tastic," she grumbled, earning herself a look from Ana. "What?"

"You don't have a strong suit of optimism, do you?" she teased, seemingly oblivious to the fact they were in prison. "You should show this to Odin. He might actually be useful to find out what it is," she handed the ring back to Neena.

"Well when we get the hell out of here, I suppose I could show it to him. Are you sure you've never seen this type of bead before? You are over eight hundred years old and you've been a lot of places I'm assuming."

"Positive," Ana nodded. "I may know what it is made of when broken down, but I don't know this compound."

"So, how long do you think it will take tall, dark and creepy to bail us out?"

"No longer than a day. Though I doubt he would even wait that long," she joked.

"Okay, that's not so bad?" she offered, trying to sound a bit more optimistic. It probably failed and she more than likely ended up sounding pessimistic. "So, uh, do you know what the current time is?"

"I'm guessing it's rather late in the evening. I'll just turn in for the night," she mumbled, conjuring up a pillow and a blanket and began to get comfortable.

"Hey! What about me? What am I supposed to do?"

Ana sighed, curling up under her blanket, "You'll learn how to do it yourself soon enough."

"Can I at least have a blanket?" she shivered, now feeling rather cold. "It's freezing!"

"All the more reason to learn," she grinned.

"Aw, come on!"

"Fine," Ana groaned after a moment of silence, several blankets appearing beside her. "Build your fort."

"Thanks, Barbie," she wrapped the blankets around herself, making her look like some sort of burrito. "Night."

"Night, Tiny."

* * *

 **Well, review! Isn't Neena's optimism wonderful? Not really XD**


	5. The world is a cruel place

_**Author's note:** Yeah, this is a really long chapter. Who doesn't like long chapters? Sorry for the lack of updates; can't promise when I'll do it again! Review please! And thanks to those who followed and Favorited!_

 ** _Warnings:_** _Over usage of the word fuck, but meh, nothing else._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I own nothing except for Neena and other random OCs. Anastasia belongs to the SUPER AWESOME Muchado96!_

* * *

"Well, well, well," came Loki's voice, closing in on their cell. "If it isn't my troublesome lady. Dungeons, chains, and shackles. Darling, you really mustn't take our affairs so seriously," he mused, a huge grin across his face.

Loki's voice was the first thing she heard when she woke up, her face smushed into Ana's hair. "Blechk!" she spat, trying to get the thick strands of hair off her face. "What the hell? What time is it?" she asked groggily before her eyes focused on him. "Oh, it's just you."

"It's morning," Ana groaned, stretching out across the floor like starfish. "No one needs to hear such talk first thing in the morning," she mumbled before sitting up.

"What was he talking about? Chains and shackles?"

"You're too young," Ana yawned, placing a stretched hand on her face.

"Get your hand off of me!" she mumbled into the hand before smacking it off of her.

"Now, we can all get along, can we not?" Loki chimed, clearly amused with himself. "Whenever you are ready, Darling," he bowed ever so slightly to Ana.

"Oh, fuck off," Neena grumbled, then paused. "Wait? She get's to go and I don't?"

"No, no," Ana grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes. "Neena's coming with us." Loki was about to speak in response, but she cut him off, "Mind out of the gutter," she reprimanded.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, "You are no fun, Darling." He then proceeded to speak with the guards about releasing them, but they kept shaking their heads in refusal.

"I really don't want to have to deal with this myself," Ana raised her voice so they could all hear. Somehow that was enough to convince the guards to let down the force field so they could get out. "You were too slow," she rolled her eyes at him.

Neena glanced down at the floor, raising an eyebrow and glancing nervously. "Um," she flushed. "The flooring is _really_ high," she stressed, hoping someone would get the hint. "Just how tall are most Asgardians?"

"That is not the attitude I want to hear from my student," Loki responded, offering his arm to Ana to help her down.

She sat down on the ledge, scooting herself off the ledge. It was a little embarrassing , but she just looked down at the ground, fiddling with the ring yet again. "So, you're teaching me?"

"In a way," he shrugged. "You must learn to fend for yourself in the process," he began to lead Ana out of the dungeons, whispering things to her that made her laugh.

She blushed again, biting her lower lip to keep from saying something that would probably sound stupid.

"Do you ride?" Ana turned around and questioned her as they climbed the stairs out of the underground dungeon to the outside world.

"No," she shook her head.

The same scepter from earlier appeared in her hand and she hit a tip to the ground, vibrating the earth. "You're going to ride with me then," she grinned deviously.

"Oh no, what's with that look?" she asked, not liking as Ana's smile grew wider.

"He's quite the surprise," Loki added as a guard brought his chestnut stallion to him.

Then there was the thundering of hooves as some seemingly gigantic horse came towards them from the distance and a large black stallion appeared, galloping right at them. "His name is Benz. One of the many Stallions of Doom that fallen warriors ride to Valhalla," she smiled as the horse grew closer. He was one of the biggest horses she had ever seen, his black coat shining in the light and his black mane and tail flowing through the wind, smoke seemingly coming from him. He slowed down as he approached, trotting into Ana's arm who proceeded to hug him and saddle him with magic before hopping on. "No time for greetings. Hop on," she extended a hand to Neena.

She took the hand, more impressed by the stallion than afraid of it. She loved horses; always had. "Why is he called Benz?" she asked, sitting behind Ana.

"It means blessed," she answered as they began to trot towards the palace, Loki riding slightly lower beside them.

"And your story behind getting him is?"

"That's a story for another day, I'm afraid," Ana waved off her question as they increased to a canter. For ten minutes, it was an awkwardly silent ride. Loki appeared majestic on his stallion, not a single strand falling out of place as the wind roared past them. Dare she say it, he looked kind of hot. " _Stop being a weirdo!"_ she scolded herself. " _You have bigger things to think about."_

As they approached the palace they began to slow down. "Let us stop at the stables," Loki said, turning to take a different route, but Ana had other ideas.

"I have a bone to pick with your father," she told him defiantly and continued forward.

"You cannot just ride into the Great Hall," Loki protested, following after her, now cantering.

"Just watch me!" Ana shouted behind her as they rode through the open gates and across the marble floors.

"Fuck me!" she cursed as Ana maneuvered the horse towards the great hall. Loki gave an exaggerated sigh.

All of the guards just stared in astonishment at either Benz or Ana, maybe both, as they cantered through the golden palace, right through the doors to the hall where Odin was sitting on the throne with Frigga by his side, looking as if they expected their arrival.

"Oh Odin," Benz slid to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and Ana hopped off, leaving Neena helpless atop the giant horse. "You really know how to make a lady feel special," she shook her head. "Was that really necessary?" she stood before him confidently.

"The justice of our world requires punishment for crimes such as yours. What would you have me do?" he asked purely out of curiosity, not caring for her answer much.

"I don't know," Ana began sassily, "Maybe not throw us in jail for _accidents_?"

"Is that what you define your murder as? An accident?" he asked condescendingly.

"Yes," Ana said firmly. "As was Neena's," she added, but without the same conviction.

"Barbie, you're really pushing it right now!" Neena echoed, still atop the mighty stallion Benz.

But Ana didn't pay mind to her, instead she climbed the stairs closer to Odin. "Do tell me, _All-Father_ ," she ridiculed, "What is it that you want from me?" she asked in a threatening tone, only steps away from the king.

"Know your place," he raised his voice, now standing to face her. "It is only because I allow it that you are still alive. Therefore-"

"Mmmm," Ana gritted her teeth. "You? Allowing _me_ to live?" she almost laughed in his face. "Abandon all your efforts at diplomacy right now. I do not deal politics. Tell me what you want _now_ and we won't have a problem," she sneered.

Neena glanced over to Loki, standing next to his horse. Their eyes met, the same thought running through their minds. "She's pushing him," she muttered. "He's going to snap, soon."

"She knows her limits," Loki muttered back, trusting Ana completely.

Odin took a deep, agitated sigh, "If it concerns you so much," he turned and sat back in his throne. "We have been studying you and your power in order to see if we can utilize it for our advantage. Wars rage across the Nine Realms with decreasing means at which to end them," he explained as Ana backed down the steps.

"My power does not bring peace to the universe," she told him plainly. "It is a tool of destruction, not creation."

Neena looked towards Loki. "What's her power, exactly?"

Loki released his horse and walked silently over to Neena. "She has the ability to manipulate energy of nearly all forms and from nearly any source," he explained.

"Cool," she found herself saying, now understanding a little on how she'd been being healed. "And that power healed me, right? Yet it can destroy the universe?"

"Yes and possibly," he nodded.

"Shit," she whistled. "Barbie's got a lot of power."

"It is clear that you do not yet know the amount of power you possess, therefore we do not currently know how it may be used. This we are studying," Odin explained further.

Ana raised a brow at him, "Yet you just couldn't ask me?" she huffed.

"You are not of this universe and your allegiance is unknown. It would be against Asgard's interest to trust you with a delicate matter such as this."

"But it is my power, is it not? And it is your son that I have been loyal to, is it not?" she begged his question.

"She's got a point there!" Neena called out. "Why don't you stop acting like an asshole and actually listen to her!"

Odin glared at her, though Ana almost laughed. "I see your manners have not improved, child," he dismissed her and turned his attention back to Ana. "If you will cooperate with our efforts and do not harm my people, you may stay as a guest in our realm, but should you betray us, you will receive your punishment," he informed her.

"And what makes you so sure I can trust you?" she challenged.

"My son trusts me. Therefore you should have nothing to fear," Odin answered.

Ana shared a quick glance with Loki that she could not decipher, but then Ana replied, "Very well," before grabbing Benz's reins and striding out of the room with Loki in pursuit.

"You sure know how to talk to the king," Neena commented, feeling Benz's soft pelt against her hands. "I'm surprised he didn't send you to the dungeon again. Or worse."

"It would've been useless. I'm not exactly the easiest person to kill," she said lightheartedly.

"Well," was all she managed to say. Ana just continued to lead Benz by the reins, out of the palace and to the stables. She somehow managed to slide off Benz, though it was a little frightening because of how tall he was. She landed on the ground on two feet, feeling a little bit sore from having to sleep on a floor and then sit on a horse for a good half hour.

"Are you okay, Darling?" Loki asked Ana after handing his horse off to a stableboy.

"I am well," she smiled, "As always."

Loki took her hands in his, "You are not as great as a liar as you think," he pushed strands of her loose blonde hair from her face. "Shall I inquire once more?"

"Your father lied, so why can I not do the same?" she sassed, earning a smile from his lips.

"My father does not offer the best example. He did try to kill you, remember?" he reminded her.

"You know very well that killing me is impossible," she said sullenly.

"And I am very relieved of this," he placed a hand on her cheek before leaning in to kiss her.

"This is disgusting," they could hear Neena mutter in the background, petting Benz on the snout. "PDA is banned in some states."

"Nobody said you had to watch," Ana laughed, pulling from Loki's embrace.

"I wasn't watching!" she protested, brushing the horse's smokey mane. "It's kind of hard not to see you two when you're RIGHT THERE!"

"Shall we leave you then? I am certain we can find a way to occupy ourselves," Loki turned to Ana and smirked.

"You're disgusting."

"You'll understand when you're eight hundred," Ana replied, laughing, as Loki pulled her in for another kiss.

"If I don't die of old age first," Neena mumbled to herself, Benz nudging her hand in reassurance. "So, when do I start learning? In a hundred years?"

Loki separated himself from Ana, to Neena's relief, "You are eager now," he grinned. "We could start working today if you are up for the challenge?"

"Does it look like I have anything better to do?"

"You should make it worth my while since I actually could have better things to do," he said smugly and Ana rolled her eyes behind him.

"Fine," she crossed her arms. "When do we start?"

"Immediately," he turned to Ana, "Bring up another one of those doors, please?" he asked of her.

"Of course, _My Prince_ ," she replied. "Right through here," she gestured to one of the stalls.

"Through there?" she asked Ana questioningly. "But it leads to nowhere."

"Don't question your teacher's assistant," Loki said disapprovingly, nudging her forward.

She walked through the door to find herself standing on a bright green luscious mountain. "Wow," she found herself saying. "That's one fine ass mountain."

"Hush," Loki chastised her. "Sit down here," he motioned and he sat a few feet away, his legs folded in front of him. She sat a few feet away from him, legs crossed in the same way. "Now, Ana and I learned two very different ways. I assume you want the least painful?" he questioned snarkily.

"Yes, oh wise one," she snarked back.

Ana rolled her eyes at that one before Loki continued, clearly irritated, "Every single living being contains the energy within themselves that they can train into magic. It is flowing through your veins undetected by any medical means and it is all controlled by your mind; the part of your mind where darkness lies. You have to face whatever demons are holding back your power, which is why it is much easier to learn magic as a child."

"Um, what kind of inner demons are we talking about here?"

"Your history, your mistakes and shortcomings. All of the events you buried in the back of your mind where the demons build the barricade to hide your power from yourself. You must accept your true self," he explained.

She looked around the mountain nervously. "Uh, can we just skip that part? Or is it really necessary to do?"

"If you wish for the experience to be relatively pain free, yes, it is necessary," Loki sighed in annoyance, clearly wanting to move forward.

"Can I have a little time to process all this information?" she asked cautiously.

Loki glared at her, and then looked to Ana for an answer, "I suppose so," he grumbled. "You did not completely waste my time."

"You're welcome."

Damn, looking into herself was not something she wanted to do. What was there to look at? She wasn't normal; deep inside she had always known that. Most girls aren't the reason their fathers are dead. Most weren't the reason they had to move cities, and most, well, she didn't want to think about. So she just sat there in the grass, trying hard to make sense of what Tall, dark and creepy just told her. "So, nice weather up here."

Loki just stood up, offering Ana his arm. "We shall come back when you are prepared to learn."

"Wait, you're going to leave me up here?"

"Did I not make that clear?" he said in a cool tone. "I do have other important things to do."

"Like screw Barbie," she muttered. If they heard her, they didn't comment. They walked through the door and left her there. So she just sat there in the grass with a million curses running through her head. A cool breeze ran across her face, making her hair fly out of place and the beads on her necklace to push against her skin. She touched them lightly, a heavy feeling filling her heart. "Dad," she touched the little spearhead that dangled to her collar bone. "Did I really know you? Why...why did you leave me here?"

She could picture him now, standing in front of their home. He was nearing his fifties; age lines already marking his forehead and eyes. He was a handsome man when he was younger; he could have had anyone in the world, but he never had the time. He was handsome and young, but his eyes held a weight in them. A sadness she could never describe; only sense and see it. The same sadness could be seen in her grandparents eyes when she could catch them off guard. She knew they held resentment for Caucasian people and when given the opportunity, they would speak strongly about those feelings. Her father, however, did not. When she asked as a little girl, he would just pull her onto his lap and stroke her hair. "I do not resent the white people," he told her, letting her fiddle with his necklace as they sat out on the porch swing of their old home. "Just sadness about life."

"Why would you be sad?" she asked innocently. "You have me."

He gave a wan smile. "The heart dies a slow death. Shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains," he patted her back, letting her rest her head on his shoulder and watched as the sun began to set in the sky. "I have loss, child. You cannot read loss, only feel it." She had fallen asleep then, never fully understanding until years later. After all, what child can fully understand loss until she has felt it herself.

* * *

 **(Flashback time!)**

Her grandparents told her she had too much water in her; glaring at her as if she were some sort of bug that needed to be stomped on. Her aunt, who spent more time with her then they did, would shake her head in disagreement. "She is a descendant of Son of Rain; the great-granddaughter of White Painted Woman and the Rain. She's a special child, don't you see?"

"No," her grandmother scoffed. "She's a half ling. The spawn of a White woman and my son. There is nothing special about her. She brings shame onto our family."

"Don't listen to her," her aunt whispered into her ear. "You're a good girl, Neena. Now, I believe your mother called a few minutes ago wanting you to come home. Now, go along!"

Her home was only a few minutes away from her grandparents and aunt, a small little house with a porch swing next to the door and a totem pole on the lawn. It had been built in the early nineteen hundreds; slowly falling apart. There were mice in the winter, bats in the summer, and more crickets in the walls than she cared for. Still, it was her home. However, her father was still at work, so it was just her mother in the house.

She stood in front of the house, nails digging into her palms nervously. Should she go in? What if mom was angry with her again? She tended to be angry with her a lot, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe she left her shoes in the middle of the floor again. Or did she leave her room messy? She didn't think so, but one could never be sure. She opened the door to her house, remembering to leave her shoes by the door.

Her mom came storming in, anger written all over her face. "You stupid child!" she screeched, waving her hands frantically. "What have I told you about touching my things?"

Did she do something? She knew better than to touch her mom's things. Like her jewelry, cigarettes, her books. "I didn't take anything!" she pleaded. "I promise; I didn't touch anything."

"You lying little bitch!" she smacked her across the face, sending her tumbling onto the floor. She whimpered, but didn't cry. Her mom just continued to rant. "Always touching my things! I'm missing two sets of earrings and I know you took them! Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't take your earrings!" she stood up, glaring hotly at her mom. She stamped her foot angrily, looking directly into her mother's eyes. "Why don't you believe me? I don't want your stupid earrings!"

"You ungrateful little witch!" she pushed her, which was not hard to do considering her body was so small. She ended up landing in between the couch and the wall; elbow smashing into the hard plaster.

"Ow!" she cried out, slowly getting up and rubbing her elbow. She ran up the stairs, mom calling after in a angry tone.

"You get back here you bitch! I know you took my earrings! Give them back!"

"I don't have them!" she replied, locking the door behind her. She knew her mom didn't follow her up the stairs, but she could hear her grumble and curse. "Why doesn't she believe me?" she flopped onto her bed, holding her stuffed bear close to her. "I hate her," she grumbled. "Why won't she leave me alone?"

The sun was setting in the west, the annoying crickets sounding even louder than they did during the day. Her father was at an art convention, so he wouldn't be back till tomorrow. She closed her eyes, holding the bear even tighter. Tomorrow she would start pre-kindergarten and her father wouldn't be there to see her off. She'd already met her teacher and she seemed like a nice lady, but all she wanted was her father. If only her mom could disappear; vanish and never return, then things could be happy.

"Until you give me my earrings back, there will be no dinner!" her mom called from the door.

"I don't have your stupid earrings!" she shot back.

"One day I'll be rid of you," she could hear her mom mutter as she stepped away from the door. The rest of it she couldn't hear, but she swore it sounded like "I should have gotten rid of you when you first came into this house."

She curled her knees into herself, holding back the tears of anger. Tomorrow she would start school for the first time; a pre-kindergarten thing or so her father told her. That meant being near new kids and have another adult figure in her life. She clutched the bear even tigher. "Um, spirits of the tribe?" she started, not exactly sure what to say. Her father and mother didn't pray, so how was it done? "I know I've been a bad girl; why else would Mommy hate me, but...please, can I have at least one friend? Mommy and Grandma say I'm a horrible girl, but please? Only one friend would be nice."

For that night, she just laid in bed and stared blankly out the window. Why was her mom so weird? When her father was home, she would constantly go on about how she would protect her and promise to always keep her safety in mind. Her father bought it, but part of him knew it was a lie. She couldn't prove it, but she had a feeling he knew that mommy was a liar. But he never saw mommy hit her or push her. She once locked her in the cellar for three hours with no light or water and no protection for what could be down there.

When it was time for school the next morning, she had to walk in the pouring rain. It was a fifteen minute walk, but by five minutes she was already soaked and shivering. The Pre-kindergarten building was the size of a small house, with a playground in the front yard and parking lot for cars. She was the last one to show up, soaking wet and at least twenty pairs of eyes staring at her. The teacher didn't yell at her or ask her why she was late; she just made her sit in the back with some boy.

They sat in silence while the teacher lady talked, but she could feel his eyes on her. He poked her once and she ignored him. When he poked her again, she glared. "Quit poking me!" she snapped, scooting away from him. "You stupid boy."

"I'm not stupid!" he countered, setting his pencil down. "I wanted your attention. My name is Luke, what's yours?"

"...Neena," she offered slowly, almost shyly.

"Do you want to play with the blocks over there?" he asked, pointing towards the blue, red, yellow and green objects. "I want to play with them. We can build a castle!"

"Sure?" she replied, a bit unsure. That was all the response he needed and he grabbed her hand, pulling her along to follow him. She sat silently next to him, watching as he arranged the blocks in a fashion that seemed almost chaotic. He was taller than she was, with strawberry blonde hair and soft green eyes. She blushed, thinking him to be rather cute.

"Here," he handed her a few blocks. "Let's get this castle built. We only have an hour until we have to clean up. Or Mrs. McIntire will make us share with the other kids."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked frankly.

"I don't want to play with them," he shrugged. "I want to play with you."

She blushed again, turning a rather dark shade of pink. She wanted to hide her face in her hair, but she had to put it in a ponytail and it was still rather wet. He began to build the base of the castle, all the yellow blocks going on the bottom. "You should smile more," he began after a few moments of silence.

"Why?"

"I bet you'd look a lot nicer if you smiled," he smiled himself, the very look of it making her feel a little warmer. "I dare you to smile! Come on, I know you can do it."

She blinked at him, still flushing, and then turned her lips upward. "Happy now?" she asked curiously.

"Yup," he nodded, then his green eyes locked into hers. "Why don't you smile? Don't you have something to smile about?"

She shook her head. "No," she took two green blocks, stacking the two of them onto the tower fortress they were beginning to construct. "Mommy never smiles, Daddy doesn't smile," she shrugged. "Daddy always looks sad."

"That doesn't mean you have to," he commented. "You should find something to smile about. Okay?"

"Okay."

For the rest of the day, they played together and worked on their brick castle. He shared his lunch with her, although the teacher said he didn't have to. By afternoon, when the day was done, he insisted on coming home with her. She hoped her father would be home so she could introduce Luke to him. Instead, she just saw her mom's car and she froze, grabbing his hand as he moved to enter the house. "Don't!" she called to him. "Mommy will get mad. She doesn't like me."

"What kind of mom doesn't like her own kid?" he asked, a bit confused.

"Mine," she grumbled and before she could stop herself, things she hadn't even told her father came spilling out. "She hits me and says mean things to me. She locked me in a cellar earlier this year and doesn't feed me when Daddy is away. Don't go in; she'll hate you too!"

"I can handle her!" he started, taking her hand with his and walked into the house. "Why didn't you tell your dad?"

"I don't know how! Don't go in, she'll hurt you!"

"Doubt it!"

"Don't be stupid!" she grumbled, following him. "She will hurt you!"

Surprisingly, the house was quiet. She tiptoed behind Luke, nervously looking around for her mom. In the kitchen, there was a big bottle of uncapped bleach on the table, so she figured her mom must be cleaning. Luke looked around, even looking under the table. "I don't see her. Are you sure she's here?"

"Her car is here!" she looked around, going towards the sink to look out the window. "I don't know where she is."

The door to the kitchen opened, and a hand grabbed the back collar of her shirt. A cup was in her hand, filled with a strong smelling clear liquid. "I should have taken care of you years ago," her mom slurred, looking disheveled and not like her usual self. "You are the reason my marriage is ruined! If you hadn't come into existence!"

"LET ME GO!" she screamed, fighting against her as her mom tried to push the glass towards her lips. "STOP IT! I'M SORRY, MOMMY! LET ME GO!"

"Let her go!" she remembered Luke was here. While he was so much smaller than her mom, he easily crashed into her. She stumbled, a few contents of the glass dropping onto the floor where it made a hissing sound. Neena collapsed on the ground near the stain, eyes wide with shock.

Her mom cried out, turning to the boy. "You little brat!" she sneered, grabbing him easily. "You dare to hit me! I'll teach you; I'll kill you both!"

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Her feet couldn't move; her hands were trembling. She could see Luke struggling to get free and her mom trying to suffocate him with her hands after slapping and punching him in the face. Then, she stopped trembling. In that moment, she remembered she had seen this scene before. Over and over again. Her mom had hit her before, tried to kill her by locking her in a cellar for what could have been days if her father hadn't come home. It was always happening right in front of her, but a part of her would pretend not to notice. The world, in the eyes she had only seen with for a few years, was merciless.

That moment, her body stopped shaking. Her hands stopped trembling and she could think clearly. " _Kill,"_ a voice in her head started. " _Kill her!"_ Luke's life depended on her. Mommy was going to kill Luke! Her Luke; her friend! This woman had shown her nothing but cruelty. A few weeks ago, she tried to hug her; thinking that was how mothers and daughters showed love to one another, but she'd been slapped instead. " _She's not my mother,"_ the voice in her head said clearly. " _She's an evil witch. I want her dead! Die, die, die, die, DIE!"_

Her mom instantly let go of Luke, the boy dropping to floor and sputtering. She hurried over to him, grabbing his arm and watching her mom. Her mom lit up like a firework, screaming and frantically running around the kitchen trying to put herself out. The fire was so strong that they could feel it; Luke vomiting once after the smell of burned flesh reached his nose. She screamed for a few more seconds before the fire disappeared, her charred body falling to the ground with a sickening crunch.

"What...what did you do?" Luke asked, eyes going wide. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she answered, trembling again. "I...I'm not sure! I don't have any matches!"

Apparently a neighbor had heard the screaming and the police were called. They were confused by the sight of a body that had obviously been on fire, but there were no remains of any fire being started in the house. Both of them were frightened and Luke's hand never left hers, his small hand clenched tightly in hers. They explained to the police what had happened, that she had tried to kill both her and Luke, and then it happened.

Her father sat on the porch, head in his hands as everything poured out of her. The moon was beginning to rise, the air still smelling of rain as she cried; explaining all that had been happening all these years. Not even six years old, and she had an understanding of the world that some adults still didn't have. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she cried into her hands. "I'm sorry; please don't be mad."

Her father didn't say anything, but she could feel that he felt shame. Not towards her, but with himself. He blamed himself for the abuse; not her.

"Hey,"

She lifted her face from her hands, feeling something being draped around her. Luke stood in front of her, blushing madly. "Don't cry," he said quietly. "It makes you look sad. This blanket is warm, right? And people like being warm. Mommy said they make people feel safe."

He was right; the blanket did feel warm. "It's warm," she found herself saying outloud. "Very warm."

"Don't cry anymore," Luke took her hand into his. "I'll protect you from now so you don't have to be sad anymore. I'll always be by your side, no matter what, I promise. So smile more, okay?"

She felt more tears gather in her eyes, her heart racing faster. A few more tears slipped down her face before a cascade of tears slipped down. "Okay," she found herself saying in between sobs. She then turned her lips upwards, smiling. "Is this good?"

"Yeah."

* * *

It was a simple act; a simple statement. And yet to learn kindness after so much unkindness. There she had been, a little girl with more courage than she actually knew would find her prayers answered. Luke had meant everything to her. He was her entire world for two years. He was her best friend, her reason to keep smiling through the months of counseling. They were inseparable; he was her one beautiful person in this cruel merciless world. With him, she had gone from a girl feeling nothing but void emptiness to someone with purpose.

A world of cruelty. That's what she had been born into. But in this world, she had found someone she could find happiness with; to escape the world. Now he was gone. After the accident, she shut everything off. The world went back to being bleak and meaningless. She closed her feelings of helplessness; hiding behind her sharp tongue and pointing out others flaws to hide her own vulnerabilities. It wasn't a way to live, she knew that deep down, but what did it mean to live?

What was it to love? Looking back now, her parents had never shown love to one another. There were days they didn't even speak. Mom never told her how to love; she had shrugged her off and hit her. Dad never told her how to feel; he never held her mom's hand or spoken sweetly to her the way couples in love were supposed to. They ignored each other; acted like they carried the plague. Her father never really smiled; only occasionally. He'd disappear to his own world. A world she would never understand, or know at all.

Who was her father? Did she ever really know him? He raised her, told her stories, painted and drew with her, but did she really know him? It was like being in a play and now that play was over. She knew that now. She knew her world was no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean. Whatever the struggles and triumphs, however often she may suffer, all too soon they bleed together until they are no longer recognizable.

Supposedly she had too much water, or so her grandmother would tell her. Yet, two people had caught on fire in her presence. The second one had been completely on accident, but she wouldn't deny the eery feeling that had risen while she backed away from him. She told him to burn in hell and he caught on fire. It was like her stepmother all over again, though the only difference was that she had been aware of her actions. She wanted her stepmother to die. The guard was just an accident, but she had still done it. She had been a murderer since she was five years old. She just didn't want to accept that fact.

But could she really be called a murderer? Didn't her stepmother get what she deserved? She had tried to kill her; tried to kill Luke. Maybe it was still considered murder, but couldn't it be called self defense too? That's what the court had ruled, though they had no idea how a fire could start and not leave damage on the home. The jury had decided that she hadn't done it and it was left alone. Children were afraid of her after that. All the kids except for Luke. True to his word, he always remained on her side. Till the very end.

"Why do you cry, child?"

She opened her eyes, almost falling backwards at the sight before her. A woman, swarthy and beautiful stood before her. In a dress that seemed to dissolve around her and change colors when reflected on the light. Her eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors and her smile didn't look so pleasant. If anything, it looked like she was on hallucinogens. "Who the hell are you?" she asked, scooting away from the woman.

The woman just smiled that creepy smile of hers, extending her right hand in offering. "My name is Njorun, little one. The humans worshiped me as a goddess of dreams, but I am so much more than that. I can look right into your soul, Neena. I can see your dreams and fears. Dreams often promote these, so I can observe the human race with ease."

She frowned. "So you've been stalking me. Well, that's not creepy at all."

The woman continued to smile that weird smile of hers. "Sit down with me," she did as she was told, having a weird feeling that this woman could kill her very easily. When she was situated, the dark woman continued. "It is true, I have observed you, but do not be frightened. I observe many human beings to guide their dreams; to help them make sense of something in the best way I know how. I indirectly guide the paths we're meant to follow."

"So you're a really important Asgardian?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Njorun's face soured. "No," she answered back in a disgusted voice. "In fact, most do not think I exist. Very few actually know who I am. The humans don't really remember me, but it's not their fault. It's Odin's."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Is everything Odin's fault?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I guess that makes sense; he seems like the type of guy to have a lot of enemies."

The woman's lips pursed in either amusement or annoyance. "You certainly have a way with words, child. So much like your mother."

"Wait, you know my mom?"

"Of course. Everyone does," she mused, very much aware of Neena's confused look. "Well, they might see her, but they do not know of her. I'm not surprised she hasn't made herself aware to you. What a pity. She is a friend of mine, you know."

Neena leaned forward, almost ready to start pleading with her. "Can't you tell me where she is? She...she's all the family I have left."

"She will appear to you when it is time," Njorun nodded. "You will meet others like me; others who have been forgotten by the so called royal family," her image changed and instead of a peaceful, beautiful woman, she looked disfigured; like something horrible she would see in a dream. She stretched her lips back, showing sharp pointed teeth that gleamed in the sunlight. Then, she stopped and the image of a youthful woman appeared. "Sorry, child. Odin and his family bring up some rather painful memories. That is why I do not spend much time in this realm."

"But you're Asgardian. How can that be?"

"I don't really have a physical form. I am the mind; the dreams of all species. I was born in this realm, but I am immortal. As long as there is life and imagination, I will be here. I will be here until the end of life; when there are no more dreams to create."

Okay, well that was rather deep. She really didn't need more deep thinking. "Okay, so why are you here?"

"To tell you that I am on your side. I see a very large destiny before you, Neena. It is my job to guide you towards that path. Odin is no friend of yours, remember that. You were created for a purpose and when the time comes, you will know that purpose."

"That doesn't tell me anything! Will people just give me straight answers for once?"

"May I inquire as to who you are talking to?"

She jumped, twisting around to see Loki and Ana standing behind her, both looking rather curious as to what she was doing. "I'm talking with someone," she answered, turning her face back to Njorun.

"There's no one there," Ana replied with a smirk. "You're talking to yourself."

"No I'm not; there's someone right here! Can't you see her?"

"Unless we've all gone blind, no."

Njorun just placed a shadowy finger to her lips. "They can't see me unless I want them to see me. I will be with you, child. Most people forget me when I speak with them, but you will not. It is important that you remember me."

"Uh, okay?"

She then disappeared, leaving her to look like she really was talking to herself. Loki and Ana just stared at her, most likely thinking that she needed to be sent in for testing. "Will you stop looking at me?" she snapped, flushing pink. "I'm not crazy; there was someone there!"

"Maybe we should get her tested," Ana directed towards Loki before looking at her curiously. "You've been crying."

A part of her wanted to shout "Well not shit!", but she refrained from doing so. Instead, she placed a hand to her cheek and wiped the dry tear marks away. "Oh, yeah," she offered a weak smile. "I was doing some, uh, reflecting."

"And what did you learn?" Loki inquired.

"That I'm a murderer," she felt her shoulders sag at the very thought of the deaths she had caused. "And that I didn't know my father at all, but," she touched the beaded necklace, not looking at either of them. "I think I'll remember him as the father I knew. I don't know his reasons for lying to me and putting up with my Step-mom, but it doesn't matter now. I mean, I still want to know his reasons and all, but I'll never stop loving him."

The words just kind of flowed out; not even having to think about what she was going to say. In a way, it felt that a weight had been released off her shoulders. Ana was surprisingly quiet, arms crossed and hair blowing in the breeze. Loki's face she couldn't read at all, but that was no surprise. In a way, it kind of reminded her of her father. Often times his face was unreadable too.

"So…" she started aimlessly. "Now what?"

"We begin your first lesson," Loki began, in all prestige and eloquence. "Now that you have for the most part cleared your conscious, you can begin to learn the basics. One of the first things I learned was moving objects."

She frowned, looking at him like he was crazy. "That's a beginner's lesson?"

"Yes. It's quite simple, really."

"And how exactly do you do that?"

He picked a rock up from the ground, holding the stone in the flat of his palm. "Levitation is simple; it's the moving it around that's the tricky part," the stone levitated in his hand, staying put for several seconds before moving next to his head. "Once you can do that, you can do just about anything, really."

He motioned for her to hold out her hand and the moment her palm was flat, the stone landed in it.

She stared at it for a few seconds, eyebrow raised in question. "So, I just lift it from my hand?"

"Yes, I believe we've established that."

She made a face, ignoring Ana's snicker. "Okay, sounds easy enough," she closed her eyes briefly before opening them. "So, do you just will the stone to move?"

"Clear your mind," Ana offered. "Focus on the stone; nothing else."

It took a few moments of deep concentration. Several times she found herself distracted by the smallest of things. From leaves blowing in the wind to Loki's flawlessly perfect hair. She blushed a few times at her thoughts getting distracted, but otherwise stared at the stone. "Try harder," Loki sighed. "You're not concentrating."

"I am so!"

"Don't argue with the teacher."

Well, that put her in her place. She gave him a sullen look, but otherwise focused her attention back on the stone. Trying to do what Ana told her was bit difficult. Unlike the leaves blowing from the trees nearby, a stone was a bit firmer. "This is hopeless!" she griped, almost ready to chuck the object. "Stupid thing won't levitate!"

"Giving up so soon?" Ana asked, almost in disappointment.

" _Water is powerful. It can put out fire and even wash away earth. Water can carve its way through stone and when trapped, water makes a new path."_

Her father's words echoed in her ear. It was a quote he often said to her when she was feeling frustrated. She had no idea where he got it from, but she could almost sense him next to her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to block everyone out. " _You can do this,"_ she tried to give herself a pep talk. " _It's a simple little stone. I don't care what Grandma says, water is powerful. I can do this."_

She could feel the stone pulsing in her hand, almost like it had a life of its own. She imagined the leaves; weightless and flowing freely in the wind. The leaves met no resistance, no feeling of pressure to hold them down. All she had to do was lift a simple stone with magic or something of that sort. Was she focusing too hard? Or was she not focusing enough? She tried to picture it in her mind, imagining a stone rising from her palm and into the air...

"Well, it looks like she has some skill."

She opened her eyes, hearing Loki's voice. She blinked in surprise, blue eyes flashing open to see the stone just lying on her palm. At first, she didn't know what he was talking about until she saw it twitch once, then twice, before going completely still. She was overjoyed that she almost let out a whoop. So what if it didn't exactly levitate? It did twitch in her palm, twitching around for a single moment before laying flat in her palm again. That was an improvement and if she were completely honest, quite an achievement if she did say so herself.

"Let's return to the palace," Loki interrupted, with his usual calm tone. His face, as usual, was unreadable. He linked his arm into Ana's respectively. "Would you do the honor, darling?"

A door appeared in the middle of the field and they stepped through it. She was the last to enter, and to her wonder, they were in the throne room. Odin was not on his throne; rather the hall was empty, but it sent an eerie chill down her spine to be back at the place. Ana placed a hand on Loki's nose, his face flinching for a few seconds while she healed him.

It did make her feel bad, it truly did. She didn't intend to hurt anybody. Maybe he wasn't going to teach her now?

"We'll begin lesson two tomorrow," he said to her, pulling her out of her worries. "Work on levitating more or you'll fall behind."

"Sure," she offered weakly, hiding her embarrassment behind a smile.

The door to the throne room opened, making her jump in shock. She was expecting Odin or Frigga to enter, but instead it was a man looking to be in his early forties or late thirties. Her eyes went wide, her stomach churning violently. She could feel the blood drain from her face and her instincts were to flee. The man's eyes met hers and he grinned. "Hello Neena," he greeted with a nod to from his head. "It's been awhile since we've met."

"It's you," her voice, damn the thing, quivered. "But how?"

Ana narrowed her eyes. "Neena, do you know him?"

Instead of answering the blonde, she bolted from the room. This was too much, way too much. She had already visited her past once today. She didn't want to revisit other ghosts from her past. She ran down the hall, slippered feet lightly tapping the floor. She needed to be alone; to escape everything in her life. Her father's death, her mother being some sort of alien, learning magic, and now seeing her former psychiatrist again? Throwing the door to her room open, she stepped inside and slammed it shut, leaning against the doorframe with shaky breaths. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to control her breathing. "Get it together," she growled to herself. "So your psychiatrist turned out to be an alien? It doesn't affect you at all!"

She paced around her room, stomping from the door of the balcony to the door to her room. Hands threading through her short black hair and pulling tightly on the locks. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, my life," she grumbled and continued to stomp flamboyantly around the room. She threw a hairbrush pathetically at the vanity, the golden object bouncing off the thick mirror and falling sadly onto the floor with a clunk.

"Lame," she sighed and flopped like a star fish onto her bed. "Damnit all, why is this happening?"

Of course, no one answered her and the room remained silent. The late rays of the sun flowed into her room and catching her face. It felt warm, reminding her of the way the sun used to feel back home. A pang of sadness rolled through her body and she curled up into a ball, clutching her necklace tightly. No tears fell, but she felt the tightness in her throat and her eyes start to smart. "What does all this mean?" she asked herself quietly, her body feeling so worn out from the day's events. "Why can't I remember?"


	6. Oh great, you made him mad

**_Author's note:_** _Not much to say here. Finals are coming up (woo...) and possibly I'll have more free time later. This chapter was a bitch to write and I hope you all like it :)_

 ** _Warnings:_** _None_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own Marvel and never will. I only own Neena and other minor OCs. Ana belongs to MuchAdo96!_

* * *

 _Knock, knock_

Someone was at the door? But who could be calling at this hour in the...evening. She blinked her eyes groggily out the window, watching as morning birds perched on the edge of the balcony. Morning already. When had she fallen asleep?

 _Knock, knock_

She lifted her head, trying to keep herself composed enough to look at the visitor. Sure, her hair was a little messy and her eyes still red from crying, but at the moment, she didn't care. She practically threw open the door, a little bit surprised to find a man, with silver armor and a yellow cape stood before her. He looked to be in his early twenties, but considering he was Asgardian, who knew how old he was. He could be in his forties for all she knew. "Uh, can I help you?" she asked awkwardly. "Please tell me I'm not going back to the dungeons."

"No," the man answered, still with a straight face. "I am not here to return you to the dungeons, my lady."

" _Damn,"_ she found herself thinking, studying him further. " _This guy is...kind of hot."_

She wasn't exaggerating, though a part of her wanted to blame hormones. He was definitely taller than her, her head only meeting his chest and her neck having to tilt up to see his face. She could have sworn he was Asian, but since they weren't on earth anymore, that wouldn't be possible. He kept his black hair in a top knot so it wouldn't get in his face. His eyes, a dark brown looked at her calmly, almost as if he was waiting for her to do something.

Now she really felt like smacking herself in the face. "So, what are you here for?" she asked, trying to sound professional and mature. Probably didn't work, but at this point, she didn't really care. "If you're not going to send me to the dungeon, that is."

"The All-Father would like to speak with you," he answered, all polite and formal. "My name is Einar. I'm here to replace the guard whom you killed yesterday."

"Well shit," she grumbled, now reminded of the fact she killed that asshole. At least, not intentionally. "So, what does the All-Father want?"

"It is not my place to question the All-Father," he responded. "He just wishes to speak to you."

"Right now?"

"I believe so."

He opened the door wider, motioning for her to leave. She followed him down the hall, hands behind her back. "So," she began, not meeting his eyes. "Where are you from? You afraid I'm gonna kill you too?"

He offered a small smile. "From what I heard it was an accident," he replied, though she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "I'm from Vanaheim."

"What's that?"

"One of the Nine Realms, my lady."

"Oh," she looked out one of the windows of the palace. "Is it nice there?"

"Yes."

"Then why come here?"

He simply shook his head, the smile fading from his face. "Special circumstances," was all he had to say about the subject.

"Special circumstances? What does that mean?" She asked, almost having to jog to keep up with his fast pace. "Were your parents like, bad guys or something?"

"They were farmers," he didn't meet her eyes; his green orbs now far away. "They died when I was a child."

" _Fucking dumbass!"_ She internally yelled at herself. " _Great, he probably hates you too now. Way to go. He'll probably try and kill you too."_

"My father died a few days ago," she offered slowly, and she would admit it, awkwardly. "My mom lives here, but I don't know who or where she is."

"That sounds pleasant," he quickly looked away from her.

"It fucking sucks," she grumbled, smacking her forehead. "Please tell me you know sarcasm."

"Of course I do, my lady."

"Then we should get along just fine."

He opened the doors to the throne room and the person she wanted to see the least was sitting up on his chair like the damn Queen of England. "What do you want, Pirate? Going to throw me in another dungeon?"

"I happened to notice the ring upon your finger," he said coldly.

"Yeah, what about it?"

He kept his posture completely perfect, not even slightly amused by her tone. "You will show respect to your king, child."

"Or what? You're not my king; I don't live here. Do your worst!"

Einar gave her a look. "I would suggest you stop now, my lady," he advised cautiously, eyes lowered to the ground in respect. "Or you might find yourself in the gallows."

"Oh, a noose. How scary," she rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "I was taught that respect is earned, not given. So no, I don't respect you, old man."

Odin did not look the least bit pleased. "You're pushing my patience, little girl. Do remember that I am king and your life rests in my hands."

She sighed in irritation. "Look, I got this ring from my dad, okay? He said he got it from my mom before she disappeared and left me on his doorstep. That's all I know."

"Let me see it."

She stepped forward, knees buckling slightly as she advanced towards him. She let the ring fall into his palm, stepping back towards Einar. Odin observed it, face void of any emotion. "This material is taken from the Bifrost," he looked slightly concerned. "Do you know how your mother acquired such an item?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? I was inside of her for nine months. It's not like I knew what she was doing."

He studied the bead carefully. "The Bifrost can only be activated by Heimdall or myself. The ring could possibly be enchanted. I will have Frigga or Loki observe its properties."

"No, it's mine!" She leaned forward to grab the ring. "Give it back!"

Einar grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her back from the throne. "My apologies, My King," he apologized, looking embarrassed with the way the tip of his ears turned pink and his jaw tightened. "Please excuse her; she's not well."

"I'm well enough to kick your ass, Pirate!"

"You are testing my patience, girl," Odin's voice was as cold as ice. "You are almost as bad as Lady Anastasia."

"Good!" she snapped, still fighting against Einar. "She wouldn't allow you to manhandle me this way, you jerk!"

"You are dismissed," he nodded towards Einar. "Get her out of my presence, soldier."

"Yes, sire," Einar bowed. "Come along, my lady."

"Let go of me! I'm not finished here!" she glared furiously at Odin, managing to kick Einar in the shin. "Let me go! That ring is rightfully mine!"

"Stop it," Einar grumbled, picking her up around the waist and avoiding her legs as she thrashed in his arms. "You're being a child; act your age."

"I'll do whatever the hell I want!"

"Clearly," he mumbled, now flipping her over his shoulder like a potato sack. "Forgive me, my lady, this is for your own good."

"Fuck you."

"Please save your antics for later," he sighed, face perfectly calm as a few servants and courtiers gazed on in amusement or shock. "You know, Lady Anastasia knows when to back down and when to not act like a child."

"Well I'm not Ana," she hissed. "I'm Neena."

"Obviously."

"Put me down!"

"Not till we get to your room."

He walked past a group of warriors looking at her as she grumbled curses into Einar's cape. The warrior with long red hair and beard immediately grinned and headed up towards them. "You must be Lady Neena!" he greeted in a jolly voice. "You interrupted our feast that one night!"

"Genius observation," she replied flatly.

"You must dine with us one night!" he grinned. "But please do bring your blue ship."

"It's a scooter, idiot," she said in a snarky voice. "Einar, put me down!"

He paused, setting her down after a few seconds of silence. Her head hurt as the blood rushed down from her head, the red haired warrior now grinning at her like a fool. "I am Volstagg," he gave hearty pat on the back followed by a jolly laugh as she stumbled. "It is wonderful to meet you."

"Wish I could say the same," she brushed down her wrinkled clothing, sighing irritably.

"That is not the attitude of a young lady! This is Asgard! Be merry!"

"I'll be merry when I can leave," she was half tempted to slap this man for being so happy.

"Patience, Lady Neena!" he gave her another pat. "I've got training to do and food does not eat itself," he patted his stomach and gave a joyus laugh. "Have a wonderful day!"

"I'll try," glancing at the other warriors, who smiled at her. Well, two of them smiled the dark haired one just looked grim. The one with the blonde hair sent her a cocky grin and she couldn't deny it; he was hot. She blushed, feeling like an idiot for letting her damn hormones get her. Being a teenager sucked.

"Come along, my lady," Einar pulled her gently by the arm in order to lead her away from the others, who bid their farewells before taking off.

She smacked his hand. "Don't touch me!" she grumbled, storming past him. "I'VE HAD IT WITH ALL THIS ASGARDIAN BULLSHIT!"

"Please don't yell, the sound echoes," he looked apologetically at the passerbyers. "My job depends on keeping you sane."

"Well send me to a crazy house because apparently I'm INSANE!" she waved her hands madly. "God fucking damnit!"

He picked her up again and threw her over his shoulder none too gently. "Shut up!" he snapped. "You're trying my patience."

She ignored him, continuing to beat against his back with her fist. It received quite a few looks, but that wasn't her biggest concern. He didn't look like he appeared to care too much and as he dropped her off in front of her room, he still remained composed. "You don't need to act like that, you know," he started patiently, staring directly at her. "I know you must be terrified; being here and discovering what you are, but your stay doesn't have to be difficult if you would just cooperate."

"I'm not scared," she snapped harshly. "There is nothing to be scared of. What do you think I am, a child?"

"With the way you're acting, yes," he replied simply. "But it doesn't have to be this way. Your stay here could be more bearable if you would relax and not attack everyone with your words. Not everyone here is out to get you."

He left, spinning on his heel to who the hell knows where. She stood dumbfounded in the entrance of her doorway, staring at his retreating back. With an annoyed huff, she closed the door quietly and trudged her way to her bed. She instantly felt immense distaste for it, missing her old wooden bed with worn blue and white sheets. She could picture the color of her room; the Captain America shrine that she looked to everyday when she needed encouragement. Then she remembered that all of it was gone. There was no place for her to return to. She flopped ungracefully on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was interesting; she would give it that. The many stars and constellations that moved across the sky were calming, putting her into a sense of relaxation.

"Again. It happened again," she continued to stare at the ceiling blankly, that awful hollow feeling returning. "I lost a someone again…"

She closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to drift away from the image of her father. She thought of her psychiatrist. How did she not figure out that her psychiatrist was a freaking alien? Damn, she must be stupid or something. Now that she thought about it, he had always been weird. Her father would drop her off at the office, then sit in the waiting room or leave to go do something else. So she would be alone with the doctor. She could remember his face as clear as day and the office. He a had a pendulum swinging from side to side on his desk and several pieces of art on the walls. Mountains, a strange beautiful castle, fields, and so on. His desk was neat and tidy; not a single thing out of place.

That was the problem. She could always remember entering and leaving the office, but she could never remember all the sessions. Bits and pieces, yes, but never the whole thing. Her father, now that she thought about it, never asked her what they talked about or how they went. Almost as if...he knew that she didn't remember.

"Fuck," she grumbled, placing an arm over her face. "You've got to be kidding me. That bastard did something; I know he did. But why can't I remember?"

The only event she did remember was the woman who had been in his office once. A beautiful woman whose face she could not picture very well, but she could remember her long, flowing golden hair. She was speaking with the doctor in a language she couldn't understand. The woman never acknowledged her and she disappeared after a few minutes, with the doctor then turning his attention to her. She could never remember his name either.

She almost fell asleep with those disturbing thoughts, only waking up when she felt Ingrid shake her a little. "Good afternoon," the maid smiled cheerfully. "It's time to wake up. Are you hungry?"

Her stomach answered for her, causing the maid to give a little smirk. Ingrid moved swiftly, placing a tray of food in her lap. She had no idea what it was, but since she didn't eat yesterday and was too busy yelling at Odin earlier that morning, she was fucking starving. Ingrid kept busy, pulling out some light blue dress and a pair of flats before looking suspiciously at the hairbrush on the floor. "What do you think of that new guard?" she asked casually. "He's handsome, isn't he?"

"I guess," she shrugged. He was handsome, but there was no way she was admitting that. "He's an ass though."

"Really? He seems like a perfect gentleman to me," Ingrid shrugged. "Oh well, I'm getting married in a few months anyway."

She almost spit out the food she was eating. "You're what? You're getting married?"

Ingrid raised a slender eyebrow. "You didn't know?"

"No!"

"Oh, well," the woman shrugged. "I guess I forgot to mention it. I'm over 2,000 years old now, so it's about time."

She shook her head, now suddenly remembering how old these aliens were. "Damn," she grumbled, picking at some of the fruit on her tray. "I forget how old you guys are sometimes."

"Compared to Midgardians, I imagine we must seem immortal," Ingrid paused, now gazing at the birds perched on the balcony. "Midgardians only live up to be a hundred years or so."

The thought made her lose her appetite as she nibbled on the bread. "Who knows how long I'll live," she muttered. "I'm only half Asgardian, remember?"

"Don't talk like that," Ingrid chided, hands on her hips. "For all we know, your aging might slow down for a while. There's no real way of knowing. Until then, it's best not to think about it."

She had a point; there was no denying that. So she just continued to eat her breakfast, listening to Ingrid hum some Asgardian folk song. It was when she was fully clothed and hair brushed that the door to her room opened and Loki stepped in. "Have you eaten?" he asked, his face passive and his back as straight as a fence post.

"Yeah," she answered. "Why?"

"Because we have magic to study."

"Oh. Right, I almost forgot," she felt like a fool; wanting to facepalm right now. Then she remembered. "Hey, did Odin give you my ring?"

He pulled it from his coat pocket, holding it in the palm of his hand. "This ring?"

"Yeah, that's the one!" she reached for it, only to have him pull it away. "Hey, that's mine! Give it back!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that right now," he didn't sound sorry; rather amused actually. "I'm still observing its properties. It is a part of the Bifrost, but how it's activated is the real question."

"Yes, that sounds like a real problem," she rolled her eyes. "What are you going to do, break it?"

"If I have to, yes."

Smug bastard. He smirked

He turned around to exit the door, expecting her to follow. Ingrid had to hold her back as she moved forward to throttle him, hissing in her ear. "Don't cause trouble!" she said into her ear. "Please treat Prince Loki with respect!"

She pulled away from the servant, giving tall dark and creepy the meanest glare she could muster at that point. He didn't appear bothered by it; rather he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Do come along," he stepped back from the door, gesturing her to follow him. "If you still want to learn magic, that is."

She mumbled a nasty word, not caring if he didn't hear it. Ingrid sighed, shaking her head in disapproval but not saying a word as she closed the door behind her. Probably to clean the room; she didn't really know what handmaidens, or whatever they were, did in their free time.

Loki led her past many rooms, and she pretty much had to jog to keep up with his long legs. Stupid Asgardians. Why the hell were they so tall? Did they have some formula she could take? "Could you slow down?" She called after him, and he only glanced at her in reply.

"No," was his reply and he continued to walk ahead of her briskly. "Do keep up."

She had every intention of flipping him off, or at least giving him some sort of nasty retort, but she thought better of it. Instead, she glowered at his back and tried to keep her temper in check. At least, she tried. She didn't know if it worked exactly, but she took several deep breaths in order to not snap at him. If she did, did that mean he wouldn't teach her anything? There was no way in hell she would take that chance.

"Quiet now, aren't we?" Loki asked in that amused way of his, walking down the hall at his own pace. He observed some of the things around him with little interest and didn't look back at her as he spoke. "No clever midgardian retort?"

"Are you wanting one?" She replied sassily, almost tempted to place her hands on her hips. "I can give you one if you want."

"No, that will not be necessary," he shook his head, but she had the feeling he was smirking. She could just hear it in his voice. He suddenly stopped in front of a solid wooden door with gold handles, glancing back over his shoulder. "This is where I will teach you."

He pushed open the doors, revealing a rather large and spacious rooms with small windows placed high up on the wall near the ceiling. The ceiling had a dome shape to it, giving the room a more open feeling and made her feel even smaller than she already did. She placed her hands on her hips, a whistle exiting from her mouth. "Pretty cool," she found herself saying and it was genuine; this building was impressive. "So, what am I learning first?"

"Levitation."

"But I already learned that!"

"You haven't mastered it," Loki narrowed his eyes slightly at her, looking down at her in a way that reminded her of some of her teachers at school. "You barely scratched the surface."

"Darn," she sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. What a disappointment. Here she had thought she had done well, but it seemed that it would take more than causing a stone to twitch to please Loki. Why was that not surprising? "How long did it take you to master magic? Five hundred years?"

"Two hundred, actually," he began in a casual tone, as if it were some normal amount of time to announce.

"Oh geeze," she pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation, and he only looked on in amusement. When she released her nose, she squared her shoulders again in an attempt to seem bigger. "Now, how do we begin again?"

He only rolled his eyes as if annoyed by how quick she'd forgotten. "You must clear your mind; don't focus on anything but the matter at hand. Like lifting this orb, for example," he held a little golden ball in his hand, allowing it to rise above his palm and push it over to where she was standing. She held open her palms as he continued to let it float above her hands. "Levitation is the most basic of magic; not very complicated. You must focus all your attention onto the object at hand, like the orb here."

He let it go, the orb falling lightly into her hands. She stood there for a moment, not exactly sure where to even start. He made it sound so...easy, like there was no effort put into it at all. She stared at it, the orb rolling around in her palms. As she stood there, Loki let out a small sigh. "You're not focusing."

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder."

" _You can do better than that, Neena. Don't hold back; force your will into it!"_

She frowned, the back of her head tingling as if someone were trying to tickle it. Where had she heard that voice before? It sounded like someone she knew, though at the moment she couldn't place where, but it had to have been recently. She looked to the ball in her hand, peering at her reflection in it. What was she doing here? What was she trying to prove?"

"This isn't as difficult as you are making it," Loki sounded again, and she swore she could feel the impatience rising off him. "If you would actually concentrate, this might go a bit more smoothly."

A part of her wanted to give up; admit that this was hopeless. In a sense, she supposed she was lazy like that, but she figured Loki wouldn't allow her to give up so easily. At least, not without some snide comment. "It's easy for you to say," she grumbled, tempted to toss the ball at his stupid Asgardian face. "You learned when you were a kid; and isn't it easier then?"

"Be that as it may," he chose to ignore her disrespectful tone, though she could have sworn his eye twitched in irritation. "You're wasting my time and yours with this cynical attitude. If you would just focus a bit more, I'm quite positive you'll be able to move it. Possibly."

"Well now look who's being cynical."

"Concentrate or I will take away that mouth of yours."

She decided to keep her mouth shut, blue eyes looking back down at the golden orb in her palms. Cynical attitude? She did not have a cynical attitude! Okay, maybe she did, but how could she not? Setting her step-mother on fire, the resentment her grandparents had towards her, her father's death, and Luke...well, she didn't want to think about Luke too much. It wasn't her fault, was it? She was just a kid who was way too aware of the world.

She stuck her hand out farther, trying to picture the ball in her mind. He said to only focus on it, right? She attempted to imagine it, a tiny floating ball in the middle of nothingness, but the image kept changing. All she could see was herself, floating in a vast emptiness of nothing. She glared at the object at hand, silently wishing it to burst into flames and disappear so she wouldn't have to deal with it. Then she paused, internally cringing by how morbid that sounded. What was with her and fire? Why did she want everything to burn?

"Loki," her lips moved before she could even stop them, looking up at him hesitantly. "Can I ask you something?"

He glanced at her, eyes looking towards the orb that was still lying flat on her palm. "I suppose, seeing as how we're not getting anywhere right now," he said in a short, clipped tone and then crossed his arms over his green robe. "What is your question?"

"Have you?" She trailed off momentarily, trying to piece the words together in her mind. He watched observantly, as if trying to picture what she was going to say. She leaned back on the balls of her feet, not meeting his cold gaze. She opened her mouth again, hoping to whoever was up there that she didn't sound like an idiot. "Have you ever wondered if your whole life was a lie? That everything and everyone you thought you knew, you actually didn't?"

He stared at her for the longest time, but didn't say anything. She regretted opening her mouth. What was she thinking? Why on earth would she ask a question like that? "Never mind," she mumbled, flushing furiously to the point the tip of her ears were probably pink. "Just forget I said anything!"

"Then why ask the question?" He asked with a bit of mockery in his tone. He stepped away from her, looking passively out the window to where the mid-afternoon birds chirped away outside. "No, I cannot recall ever wondering about something like that."

She so desperately wanted to point at him, jump up and down and say "Liar!", but she didn't. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, almost as if he was thinking hard about something. Was he actually considering what she had just asked? _Gold star for you!"_ She chorused in her mind, and it took all the little willpower she possessed to not start grinning like a fool. It surprised her; how mature that question sounded. Did she actually ask a question without swearing for once? Come to think of, when was the last time she said an unsavory word?

"I still don't believe you've fully cleared your conscious," Loki stared at her, clearly not impressed. She flinched slightly underneath his gaze, not liking the disappointment in those green orbs. "You're holding back, and I do not have time for people who won't use their full potential."

He turned his back to his, as if he were prepared to leave. She could feel her hands tremble, not sure how to take in the fact that someone was giving up on her. He squared his shoulders, heading towards the grand doors. "Wait!" She called out, momentarily forgetting the orb in her hands. It connected with the floor with a loud noise, rolling across the ground. "Loki, wait!"

He didn't stop walking; seemingly rather determined to leave the room. He didn't look back at her, keeping his face straight ahead in order to ignore her. For a moment, she thought back to those moments as a child, when her father would leave her with her step-mother to go to work, and later on with her psychiatrist. She could recall begging him not to go; not to leave her. She still felt the firm ice cold grip of her step-mother's hands; could still see the faux warm smile on the psychiatrist's face. It felt like she was being abandoned, though this didn't quite meet that criteria. Even so, being given up on reminded her of that bitter feeling of hopelessness and misery. "Wait!" She called out again, trying to catch up with his long strides. "I'm sorry, wait! Please, stop!"

It was a funny thing to describe what happened next. The first thing she could process was that he stopped, probably astounded by the fact she apologized and didn't swear for once. The rest was a little strange; something she couldn't recall ever have done, but felt so familiar she knew she had felt something like it before. All of a sudden, it was like she wasn't looking through her own eyes anymore. She knew something about out of body experiences, but this couldn't be one of those. She could sense she was in her own body, but still looking through his eyes.

She could feel...everything. _See_ everything. Through that mysterious swirl of green that colored his eyes, beyond that mystery, it was almost as if she were seeing him for the first time. She wanted to say that she was seeing his memories, but had a feeling that wouldn't be correct. These didn't look like memories at all. She could see Thor, shaking his hand and talking to him with...respect. She could see Odin looking and speaking to him with respect as well, with Frigga looking so proud.

In a sense, she felt as if she was digging around in his mind. Maybe not his mind, but something similar to that. She kept on scratching, peeling; no, forcing her way through any resistance. She could feel him pulling away from him; fighting her to prevent her from looking any farther. Whether or not he was aware of this, she had no idea. All she could focus on was looking ahead, prying her way through his efforts.

It felt so easy, like tying a shoe. Past the resistance, though it was muddled and foggy, she could see someone. Or at least, the silhouette of someone she found familiar. A large pair of round blue eyes peered at her, full of wonder and brightness. Then the resistance came back and she was shoved away forcefully from the image. She knew she had no right looking. She had a feeling these images were very private, something that were held dearly by him and she had no business venturing into. But it was so, so very tempting. She liked the feeling that it gave her; the sense that she had some power over him. Whatever these images were, they had power over him and it was something he more than likely did not want to the rest of the world to see.

She pulled back suddenly, gasping for air as if she were holding her breath or something. Loki stared at her, hand resting on his head as if he had a headache. Then he glared at her, the very look sending ice cold fear shoot down her spine. "What did you do?" He asked, eyes searching suspiciously for any sign of malice. "What was that?" He asked again, though she felt like he was snapping at her. "What did you do?"

"I...I don't know!" She responded, now feeling like that scared little girl so many years ago. He had a valid point. What did she do to him? It felt...it felt like she had done it before. "I really don't know! I'm sorry! Fuck, what was that? I don't even-"

He stepped further away from her, face less angry and more bewildered. He still looked at her with suspicion, avoiding her gaze carefully. "That is enough for today," he spoke carefully, with his tone so quiet she could barely hear it. "We will resume practice some other time."

He retreated from the scene quickly, leaving no room for her to say anything. She felt so small; like the world was crumbling and collapsing all around her. Why oh why did she do that? "Idiot!" She paced back and forth around the room, grumbling angrily to herself. "Why did you do that? Now he hates you! Now you're not going to know how to get out or get the ring back! Now you'll...be alone."

She didn't want to be alone; not again. When Nascha died, and her father retreated into himself, there was nothing but silence in their house. She had to fend for herself; pretend that everything was okay. If Luke hadn't been there, if he hadn't come over everyday, then everything would have been hopeless. But those days he couldn't come over, or those lonely nights where she lay in bed with the scene of her step-mother's death replaying over and over again, well, she didn't want to relive those days. She didn't want to relive the days wondering. Just standing in front of her house and wondering if her father truly resented her for what she did.

It wasn't that she hated being by herself; friendships didn't come easy to her and a majority of people at school didn't like her or just didn't care to get to know her enough. She preferred it that way; keeping people at arm's length was the best way to protect herself. It was pathetic, she knew that, but being alone was the worst thing she could think of. Before she hadn't minded too much; she always had a place to go back to. Now, everything was different; her home was gone.

She pushed open the doors to the room, her feet knowing exactly where to go. She ran down the hall, ignoring the looks she got from guards and courtiers. How cares what they thought? She threw open the doors to her room, slamming them shut with a bit more force than she intended and slumped against them down to the floor.

She curled instinctively into herself, resting her forehead down on her knees. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry, yet here she was, sobbing like a fucking baby. She couldn't remember the last time she had just sat down and cried like this. Yes, she cried when her dad died and when she was remembering him after thinking of Luke, but this was different. She didn't cry, normally. She hated this feeling; the feeling of being so vulnerable to everyone.

" _You can't break the broken._ " Her father said once, and at the time, she had no idea what he was talking about. Now she knew he was talking about himself. She was the strong one for him; he had always depended on her.

The sickening thought crashed down on her, like a wave upon the sand. He knew...he knew she would end up in Asgard one day! He had always known, somehow, even though she hadn't realized it at the time. It explained everything, though. Why he'd always been distant to her while she was growing up, always looking as if he were lost in his thoughts. Could it be that he regretted that she existed?

That couldn't be though, there had been happy times. He drew pictures of her all the time; when she wasn't looking. Instead of taking pictures, he had a whole sketchbook of pictures of her in his desk drawer at his store. He always called her his muse; saying she was the prettiest girl in the whole world, though she denied it all the time. She remembered the first time he let her cook, and even though the stove caught on fire, they still laughed about it. They'd have movie nights, and go stargazing whenever they could.

"I already decided to remember him as the father I knew," she muttered to herself, wiping the tears away. "But...I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry that I didn't _really know_ you."


	7. Psychiatrist from hell

_**Author's note:** Hope everyone had a good summer! I was busy working, and then life just kind of got in the way. I'm back at school now, but I hope you all keep reading!_

 ** _Warnings:_** _None_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I own nothing but original characters. Ana belongs to MuchAdo96_

* * *

She didn't recall falling asleep; for suddenly she felt warm hand shaking her gently. "My lady, what are you doing on the floor?"

Her blue eyes instantly flashed open, and she almost kicked Ingrid in the face. She flailed about, trying to get her hair out of her face and process the world around her. Ingrid had taken a step back, and she knew she was concerned by the way her brow furrowed and her brown eyes stared at her. "You've been in that position for a while," the young woman spoke, her voice like the breeze in springtime. "I would have woken you up had I known you were on the floor."

She frowned, looking up towards the maid. "How'd you know I was asleep?"

"Oh, Einar came to make sure you were alright" Ingrid glanced over at her, kneeling down to life something off her. Looking down, she finally realized someone had draped a blanket on her in the middle of the night. "He said you were sleeping and asked me to come by later."

"Oh."

She stood up, cringing at how sore her back was. She didn't ever recommend sleeping on the floor to anyone; preferring soft mattresses. She followed Ingrid silently to the bathing room, now very much aware of how greasy her hair was. She wrinkled her nose, waiting for the water to rise and become warm enough to get in. Ingrid didn't say much; she hummed and tested the water, adjusting it here and there. So she stood there, not entirely sure what to say. The events of yesterday were racing across her mind and a part of her dreaded seeing Loki again. He was sure to be mad at her, wouldn't he? Whatever she had done; it wasn't good and it looked like it had hurt him.

"My lady?" Ingrid's voice pulled her back to the present, the young woman motioning her head towards the water. "Your bath is ready. I'll turn around now, okay?"

"Oh, thanks."

When did she get this spacy? As she stripped out of the boring grey dress and slid down into the water, she sighed. "Ingrid," she started cautiously, surprised by how tired she sounded. She couldn't help but feel so guilty and who else was she supposed to talk to? She hadn't seen Ana or Frigga in awhile. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Ingrid gathered some sweet smelling oil; a scent she couldn't place but kind of liked. "You can ask me anything. Are you having womanhood problems?"

"What? No! Okay, well, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about," she blushed so hard, not expecting the maid to bring that topic up. She slid further into the warm water, thoughts drifting back to the events of the previous day. "So, have you ever done something bad? And you know it was bad, but you didn't know how to apologize for it?"

She half expected Ingrid to think she was crazy, or tell her no, but the older woman nodded. "We've all done things we regret, Neena," she twisted her head around, surprised that the woman used her actual name. "There was a time, not too long before you came here that my fiance and I got in a disagreement. I said some things and he said some things; both of which we didn't mean. We almost cancelled our wedding because of the fight and didn't speak to each other for a while. I regretted what I said, but I didn't know how to take it back."

"So what did you do?" She asked, closing her eyes as the woman's fingers scraped her scalp gently. "You're still getting married, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ingrid answered, continuing to scrub at her head. "But we had to work out our issues. I won't bore you with the details, but even though we did get past the fight, we both couldn't take back what we said. We can forgive, and move on towards forgetting it, but the point still stands that we said hurtful things."

"Oh," she slumped down into the circular tub, staring at her reflection in the soapy water. "So...when's the wedding?"

"After the coronation next week," Ingrid replied cheerfully, looking at the engagement ring on her finger with a gentle smile on her face. "I've been waiting my whole life for this moment."

She could have said something sarcastic, but she didn't. Under any other circumstance, she would have but Ingrid had just given her advice; shared something personal with her. She didn't deserve a sarcastic comment, so she kept her mouth shut. There was too much going on anyway, and all these thoughts were running around loose in her mind. When she was normally this stressed, the first thing she did was lash out at the people around; pushing away whom ever she could.

That probably explained why her time here sucked.

So she sat there in the tub, letting Ingrid wash her hair while she attempted to relax. She tried to take deep breaths, something teachers at school recommended her to do before she lashed out at someone. It did little to calm the anxiety, but the feel of Ingrid's fingers against her scalp felt good, easing the tension that continued to build up. She had no idea what she was going to do; how to apologize for something she didn't even know she could do.

It was good to be clean though. The citrus smelling oils smelled nice and the feel of all grunge washing away was probably the best feeling in the world. The towel she was wrapped in now as she stepped from the water was still warm, smelling of lavender. Despite having to wear a dress that reminded her way too much of the one angry with her at the moment, she didn't say anything. As the brunette brushed her hair, untangling the knots and talking about her wedding, she listened. Until she brought up the subject of the coronation. "What would you like to wear?" The woman asked cheerfully. "I am thinking that you would look good in pink."

She blinked in surprise, taken off guard by the question. "Wait, I'm actually going to that? I don't think I was invited considering...well, I kind of dropped in your realm by surprise."

"The Queen said you're a guest of hers and I'm sure Prince Thor would love to have you there. He's friendly with everyone, you know," Ingrid flushed pink at the mention of the Prince of Asgard. "He wouldn't mind if you went."

"And Pirate guy?"

"What?"

"Odin," she amended, noticing Ingrid narrow her eyes in disapproval. "I'm pretty sure the guy would rather me walk off a mountain than be near me."

Ingrid just shook her head, biting the corner of her lip as she fought off a smile. "The All-father is just wary of you; for good reason," she said evenly, and she didn't take offense to it. "You did show up in a rather odd way and no one knows how you were able to activate the bifrost. Even Heimdall doesn't know."

"Fantastic," she grumbled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Well, I suppose it can't get any worse. Don't tell me you already have something picked out."

"As a matter of fact, I do!"

She felt tempted to bang her head on the vanity, but refrained from doing so. The last thing she needed was another headache. Ingrid stepped gracefully over to the wardrobe, gently opening the doors to reveal whatever she had hidden inside. She pulled out a long pastel pink dress, holding it up with a grin. "I think it will look good on you," Ingrid looked pleased with herself. "I picked it out. Since you're still young, I tried to keep it appropriate. It does expose a bit of your collarbone, but nothing that would make you feel uncomfortable."

She had to admit, it did look pretty. She walked over to it, feeling the material with her fingertips. It felt like silk. The waistline had black patterns that reminded her vaguely of butterflies or flowers. The same pattern was on the sleeves, which were transparent she didn't think they were there. She thought back to the day when she ate with the royal family and the pretty blue dress she wore. Up until that point, she hadn't worn a dress since she was little and that was just a simple white sundress. She wore it whenever she could, along with her floppy straw sun hat. She still had the hat; it was lying somewhere in her room back at home…

She swallowed hard, the bitter fact that her home was gone brought a dull ache to her chest. She tried hard not to think about it, but it kept resurfacing and the desire to go home was as strong as ever. If Ingrid sensed her change of mood, she didn't say anything and put the dress back in the wardrobe, closing it quietly.

 _Knock, knock_

"I wonder who that could be," Ingrid looked confused, but headed over to the door anyway. As the Asgardian woman headed over to the door, she felt nauseous. What if it was Loki here to throw her in the dungeon? Or worse! Toss her over the bridge so she could fall into oblivion!

"Oh, Einar, it's you!"

She wasn't sure if she should be relieved, or angry. She was still upset with him for treating her like a potato sack. He stood at the entrance of the doorway calmly, giving a polite smile and little bow to Ingrid. "Excuse me," he told the tall woman before looking over to her with those calm dark eyes. "The prisoner has requested to see you, my lady."

She blinked, looking to Ingrid in confusion. "What prisoner?"

Ingrid just looked uneasy, twisting her lips into a frown and stepping away from the door to go make herself busy. She looked back to Einar, glaring at him. "What prisoner?"

Einar didn't seemed bothered by her glare, and he only fixed her that reserved look he always wore. "The man you ran away from earlier two days ago," the guard stated simply. "He has requested an audience from you."

"And the pirate is okay with this?"

"He believes the man has information about how you came to be here and that you might be able to tell him."

She crossed her arms defensively, heart pounding hard against her ribcage at the thought of seeing Dr...whatever his name was. In the most snarkiest tone she could manage, she spoke. "And what makes you think I want to talk to him?"

If anything, the reserved expression Einar wore changed. She had to narrow her eyes to get a better reading of it, finding that his usual relaxed expression changed to that of concern and suspicion. He stood straight, voice as calm and steady as it usually was. "He said if you didn't, there would be consequences."

"And what would that be? Spending the night in the dungeons?"

"I don't believe you would want to find out."

She had to think about it. Odin already disliked her and if she really thought about it, if he appeared randomly in her house, she would be suspicious too. That didn't mean she liked him, but what else could be worse than a dungeon? What more could he do? Maybe he would throw her over the bridge; she was sure he'd get a kick out of that. "Fine," she sighed, grabbing a random pair of flats from the side of her bed and putting them on her feet. She headed back over to the door, walking right past the guard. "Let's go."

She was surprised she remembered the way, although she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Einar followed her silently, looking lost in thought. Then again, his face was always unreadable and she found it frustrating. She couldn't even read Loki, though he was still upset with her. She had a feeling Ana knew, though she hadn't seen the blonde in a while. She briefly wondered what Barbie was up to, but suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder lightly.

"I'm sorry, my lady," Einar stopped her from walking and she turned swiftly to face him, about ready to give a snide comment. He narrowed his eyes, probably waiting for her to say something and when she didn't, he continued. "I don't trust this man. Promise me you will be careful; he has a reputation of being a snake."

"I already know him," she sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. He didn't look all impressed by this, but at the moment, she didn't care. "I just don't remember who he is."

"Just be careful," he sighed, sounding mildly tired. "We do not know why he wants to speak with you. He was your doctor, was he not?"

"Psychiatrist, or something like that," she looked towards the entrance of the dungeons, two guards watching them with intrigue. "To be honest, I'm not sure what he was."

"I see."

She shrugged her shoulders, turning around again to continue their journey to the dungeon. It was as dark and unbearably cold as she remembers, wrapping her arms around herself to keep from shaking. The prisoners sneered at her and for the ones she recognized, she was almost tempted to wave at them. Almost; that would probably be a bad idea. Wherever they were keeping this doctor, he seemed to be locked pretty far away from the others. Surely he wasn't that dangerous? He was a middle aged man for crying out loud!

By the time they reached his cell, she could feel her heart drop to her stomach. He hadn't changed at all; though why was she not surprised? His graying blonde hair was messier, probably due from not being able to brush and clean it. His face, as pale as hers, looked ashy from lack of sun but his blue-gray eyes lit up with disturbing glee when he saw her. From his spot against the wall, he stood up, smiling at her pleasantly despite the fact he was in a dungeon. "Neena," he greeted her with that creepy smile. "It's been a long time. My, my, look how you've grown."

"Well, you're just as creepy as ever," she retorted, and she could sense Einar was agitated. She didn't blame him for not wanting to be down her, but she wasn't one to back down. "Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?"

All the doctor did was laugh, the very sound causing her to shudder a little. He smiled again, shaking his head as he let out a little chuckle. "You haven't changed at all, little one," he stood to his feet, stepping over slowly to her to stand right in front of the force field or whatever it was that was currently confining him. "How has Asgard been treating you? I've heard you've spent a few nights down here."

"I'm fine; how are you liking being locked in there?" She sassed him, despite Einar giving her a look that meant she shouldn't. This man didn't scare her; very few things in life did. "Now what did you want to talk about?"

"Still so fiesty; it's a rather annoying quality, wouldn't you think? Then again, your mother's the same way and I find her to be more appealing."

"Okay, ew, that's my mom you're talking about," she wrinkled her nose in distaste, and for a moment, she swore she saw Einar fighting back a smile. "What do you know about my mom? Who is she?"

"All in due time, Neena," the doctor chuckled once again, his eyes staring directly into hers. "I hear you've been studying magic with Prince Loki. How's that going?"

"Fantastic," she replied in a sassy voice, trying very hard to keep her face as non-expressive as possible. "Now quit avoiding the subject."

"I hear you did something to him. It seems you subconsciously remember what I thought you. I had hoped you would," he leaned back slightly, looking at her with what she almost dared to call pride. "Out of all my students, you were my favorite."

She rolled her eyes, though her stomach lurched and she felt like throwing up. "Well that's all fine and dandy, but you were my psychiatrist. I wasn't your student, dumbass," she scoffed, but there was doubt lying behind it. What was it she didn't remember? "Is that all you have to say? If so, I'm leaving."

"Now, now, don't be so impatient," he smirked and crossed his arms behind his back. "I will explain everything in due time. What was it like, being able to know things about the Prince he hasn't shared with anyone?"

That caught her attention and she stepped forward, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you know? How did you find out? What was it? Explain!"

"It's all very simple," he waved his hand dismissively, as if her questions were stupid. Which they were not! He smiled at her again. "If you must know, it was your mother's idea. There's more to you than you think, Neena. Do you really think your existence is a mere coincidence?"

When she didn't say anything, opting to glare instead, he continued to monologue. "Your entire existence has been planned for a while now, little one. We all knew you would come to Asgard eventually and we've been preparing ourselves for this day. Your true destiny is here, child. Your home is in Asgard."

She stepped back in shock, Einar taking a step forward with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "That's bullshit!" She snapped, jaw tightening as her glare intensified. "My home is on Earth! Tell me who my mom is so we can sort through this! Now!"

"Don't be so bossy," he had the nerve to wag a finger at her, a smirk curling on his thin ugly lips. "Don't you want to know more about yourself? What you could possibly do?"

"All I can do is twitch a rock, and by the looks of it, that's about it," she thought that sounded about right. After the events of yesterday, she doubted Loki would want to teach her anymore. "I'm about as average as they go and trust me, I am okay with that."

"That's where you're wrong," he narrowed his eyes, stepping even closer to the field separating them. "You do not give yourself enough credit. Remember Luke?" He smirked as she bristled at the mention of her friend. "You are more powerful than you know right now. I had to block your memories of our time together. It was your mother's wish, but it was better that way. We couldn't have you going crazy, now would we?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy; Einar here would know," the guard did say anything as she mentioned his name. She looked back to the doctor, placing her hands on her hips. "Is there actually anything useful you'd like to share?"

"You're as stubborn as I remember," he sighed and shook his head. "Always questioning me and giving retorts. You should have been raised in Asgard; you wouldn't have had an attitude problem here."

"Well too bad buddy," she rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "Now what did you do to me when I was little? What did you do?"

"Why don't I show you?"

She didn't expect for him to cross the barrier, and she let out a yelp and stepped back as he broke through. The field encasing the cell broke out into gold particles, grabbing the attention of all the other prisoners, who banged on the walls of their cages to see if theirs would do the same thing. Einar was dumbfounded for a moment, but he wasn't quick enough to stop the doctor from jumping off the ledge and moving over to her.

He grabbed her head, bringing his face so close to hers she could smell his breath. "You are going to remember," he hissed, his fingertips burning against her skin. "And you will go beyond all our expectations!"

The last thing she heard before her world went black was the sound of a sword being unsheathed and the sound of metal piercing flesh.

" _Focus Neena, pay attention to your surroundings."_

" _But this is boring! We've been doing it for an hour."_

 _She swung her legs out, feet not even touching the ground as the two of them sat on the park bench. A slight breeze was in the air, brushing a few loose strands of black hair that tickled her face. The day was sunny, with little clouds rolling across the blue sky of New Mexico. She sat on the park bench and sighed, looking longingly at the playground nearby. Other kids got to play on the jungle gym, so why couldn't she? Oh right, because she had to spend time with stupid Dr. Mortenson. And all this was because her step-mother caught on fire, which was not her fault! She swore to everyone she did not have matches!_

 _Dr. Mortenson sighed in exasperation, quickly hiding it with that weird smile he always wore. "The sooner you do what I ask, the sooner your father can come and pick you up."_

" _Fine…" she sighed and looked back out to the playground. "So, what am I supposed to do again?"_

" _See that man in the gray suit? I want you to look into his mind."_

 _She did what she was told, though she made sure to give another sigh of exasperation. Why he was making her do this didn't seem very relaxing. Her daddy said she had to go because she needed someone to talk to. She didn't understand why; this didn't seem very helpful. He was always making her do weird stuff and she hadn't the slightest idea why._

" _Why do I have to do this?"_

" _I've told you before why, Neena. It's all for your benefit. The sooner you do what I ask the sooner you'll be closing to master it."_

 _She gave him a look before sighing once more and closing her eyes. The man in the gray suit...middle aged, tall, possibly having fights with his wife; she could see all that, but she knew Dr. Mortenson didn't care about that. She knew what he wanted, but it all seemed so pointless. What were they gaining out of this? Besides, whenever she did what he wanted, it didn't feel right. It made her feel bad; knowing things that weren't her business. Daddy had told her that she shouldn't eavesdrop on people and whenever she did what the doctor wanted, it felt like eavesdropping._

" _I don't remember what to do."_

 _Dr. Mortenson shook his head, giving her a slightly annoyed look and pressed his lips in a thin line. "I've already explained it to you; you know what you have to do," when she gave him a blank look, he took another pause before speaking again. "You must eliminate your physical self; focus only at object in front of you. Clear your mind; solely picture the target and connect your mind with theirs. No matter how much they resist; over power their will with yours. I know you can do it, Neena, you've done it before."_

 _She kept her eyes closed, inhaling quickly before releasing it slowly. It took her months to be able to clear her mind before; and that's what most of the sessions were. For a long time, their sessions were just about clearing the mind._

 _She inhaled again, projecting herself farther out. It felt odd; it was never a feeling that she could really describe to someone. Even her daddy wouldn't understand; no one did. She couldn't even tell her best friend in the whole world about what happened during her sessions because she still didn't fully understand it herself._

 _The man, not much to her surprise, put up resistance. From the outside, he pressed his hand to his head as if he had a headache, but she could see through his eyes as she projected her mind out. She wasn't seeing thoughts per say, but she could see what lay heavy on his mind. She could see what he wanted; his desires and fears. All of it was there, laid out like an open book._

 _She pulled back out, the man falling to his knees and holding his head in pain. A few people came over to see what was going on and someone asked if he needed an ambulance. Dr. Mortenson smiled at her, clearly pleased. "You're getting better at it," he looked at the watch on his left wrist. "It only took a minute this time. Last time it took you a minute and a half."_

" _Is he going to be okay?" She looked back at the man, chewing on her lower lip in guilt. "He looks like he's in a lot of pain."_

" _He'll be fine; he's not important," Dr. Mortenson waved her concern off, standing up and picking up his briefcase. "Now come along, Neena. Your father will be here soon to pick you up."_

 _He was the most perfect person in the world._

 _Always smiling, despite everything going on around him. With two little dimples at the corner of his upper lips. His eyes a bright green that lit up when he saw her. Not only her, but other people he cared about as well. But she always felt special when he smiled at her, though as if it were a smile reserved only for her and her alone._

 _Despite the things he had seen in his life, despite all the things going on that were troublesome, he never let it bother him. His optimism was like a ray of sun that broke through the thick and murky clouds of her mind. He stayed by her no matter how cranky and irritable she could get; even when she didn't have the energy to leave the house._

 _There was one day that she didn't go to school, cooped up in her room feeling like the entire world was collapsing around her. It was shortly after her step-mother's death and her daily psychiatrist visits had just begun. There were days she couldn't find the strength to get up, as if a giant weight had been placed on her shoulders and she couldn't move or do anything. Everything was too much; too much sadness and anxiety around her._

 _But Luke...he was always there for her, rain or shine. On that one day where she felt like there was no reason to continue on, he showed up at her door with two popsicles in hand. "You want one?" he had asked, offering it out to her with a smile. "It's not as good as ice cream, but it's still pretty tasty."_

 _And just like that, she felt as if things could be okay. When he left to go home, she didn't feel as crappy as she had earlier. He had been willing to toss away his life for her when he had barely even knew her. It was a debt she would never be able to repay. He was the one person she could rely on; the bane of her seemingly meaningless existence. She loved her father, she truly did but he was so distant from her. Always escaping into his mind; a world she could not follow no matter how hard she tried._

 _In the end it was her fault. Just like how everything that happened to her was. She didn't know how else to explain it, but it seemed like there was some force out there that didn't want her to be happy. The world truly was a cruel place; she'd experienced it first hand but Luke...he still had an innocence she both envied yet wanted to protect._

 _His life was so normal compared to hers. His father was a optometrist at the local eye care clinic and his mother taught at the local elementary school in the second grade class. He had a younger brother named Sammy who was annoying, but since he was three it wasn't unexpected. It always felt odd whenever she was over. Not a bad odd, but it gave her the sense that she was shoe that didn't quite fit into their routine. Their family was happy and loving. Luke had parents who loved him and showed affection generously. They would play board games and his parents would take turns every night cooking, reading stories and taking the kids out on family trips and such._

 _It didn't feel right; or at least normal. Not for her, at least. She had never seen her father and step-mother show affection to one another or to her. Her father did sometimes, but then he retreated back into himself. The way Luke's family acted reminded her of what she would never and could never have with her own family. She didn't resent Luke for that; she could never, but that didn't mean she couldn't get jealous._

 _After the accident, that was it. Her father decided to move to a small town so they could start over and forget the painful memories of the past few years and of what had happened recently. She couldn't forget nor would she ever. She had accepted that the world was cruel and that happiness could only last for a fleeting moment before disappearing. It had always been that way; forever but she always chose to look the other way. After the incident with her stepmother, she couldn't ignore it. Somehow Luke could. Maybe his brain blocked it out or he just chose not to look at it, but he continued on with his naieve innocence._

 _After the accident, she didn't make any other friends. She couldn't allow other people to be wrapped up with someone like her. So she pushed people away in an effort to not only protect them, but also herself. She knew how to get by on her own; how to survive the merciless world. She couldn't allow herself to get too attached to anything. She could only care so much and that compassion had been decided when she was seven years old._

 _She understood almost better than anyone else that life was fleeting; something not to be taken lightly. She tried not to care too much, a method of protecting herself. She pushed others away with her words and temper, not wanting something bad to happen to anyone else. She didn't need; she didn't want another Luke._

 _She could never explain how, but what happened to him was her fault. Everything bad that happened to her was somehow her fault._

Einar sat by her bedside the rest of the day, watching as her face changed from peaceful bliss to clear agitation. Whatever was going on in that mind of hers, it wasn't pleasant. A part of him wanted to wake her up, but he had clear instructions from Prince Loki to not do that and he wasn't particularly wanting to see what could happen if he did.

"The wall that was suppressing certain memories is collapsing," the prince had explained in a thoughtful, yet warning tone. "If you were to awaken her, the results would be most unpleasant."

"How so?"

"The mind is a fragile thing," Prince Loki continued, Anastasia nodding silently in agreement as she leaned cross armed against the golden marble wall. "Randolph learned about warping the mind from some unknown teacher; someone powerful I would imagine. It is not a form magic I would care to learn, but I do know that interrupting her returning memories could damage her mind. Relax, when her memories have returned she will awaken."

That had been five hours ago and the girl had shown no sign of waking. He could remember the events that had happened only a few hours ago. His hand automatically tightened on the hilt of his sword attached to his belt. This shouldn't have happened. He should have been able to stop Randolph from touching her; for putting her through this. He was a soldier, a warrior for the All-Father and a representative from Vanaheim. He should have seen what the prisoner was planning. All of this could have been prevented if he had acted sooner.

Now he had failed her. Failed the All-Father and most importantly, failed himself. " _I swore to myself I would never be helpless again,"_ he admitted to himself, lips tightening at the thoughts running around in his head. " _I worked too hard to get here; I shouldn't have allowed myself to get distracted."_

He didn't understand how he wasn't able to stop the man. He shouldn't have allowed the shock to disable to him. If he had only acted sooner, than this girl wouldn't be in the position she was in right now.

Everytime he saw this girl, he didn't know what to think. She was so guarded, so defensive all the time. As if she were afraid that if she loosened up just once, then the entire universe would crash all around her. Not that he knew much about her at all; he didn't know much about Midgardians other than the fact that they tended to swear a little too much. He knew that she was in a great deal of pain right now considering she had just lost her father. From what it sounded like, and from the small bits that Ingrid told him, he was the only close family she had. It seemed like family was something important to her; something she cared about very deeply.

He was rather surprised that the prince of Asgard was worried about her. From what it sounded like, he had been pretty shaken by whatever she did. It was strange that a girl of such short stature could do something to rattle up even Loki, who was not easily startled. With how small she was, and really she looked like an infant compared to the rest of them, one could easily mistake her for being weak. He however could see right through that and knew that while physically she was not imposing in the slightest, but mentally she was sharp as the tip of a sword. Especially when she glared at him and everyone else with those blue eyes of hers. Very piercing, as though she were trying to pick out all his flaws and point them out.

Her blue eyes suddenly opened, returning to the real world in a lazy, slow fashion. She groaned, pressing a small hand to her face. The peaceful silence that had engulfed the room had disappeared, the girl muttering something that sounded like "Bastard man," and "That ass hole." When she finally realized he was in the room with her, he expected her to snap something rude at him but instead she gave a sigh. "What are you doing here?" she asked, exhausted for someone who had been sleeping all afternoon. She pushed back a strand of black hair that always hung in her face, and he did admit that she truly did look tired. "Don't you have work, or whatever it is you soldiers do?"

"I," he paused, not quite sure how to put it without being creepy. And he knew full well she would call him out on it if that's what she deemed it to be. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

She was unusually silent, hand still pressed to her face as if she had a headache. Aside from the birds chirping from outside and the distant echoes of the people below. A light breeze blew in, gently disturbing the loose strands of black hair lying against the side of his face. Her eyes had closed, like she was thinking hard about something before they opened once more. "Why?" she asked, her voice quiet and uncharacteristically shaky. "All I want is to just be by his side. That's all I've ever wanted and yet…"

He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, nor did he particularly like the completely devastated look on her face. How was he supposed to respond to this without making her even more upset? "I'm sorry, my lady," he offered quietly, noting how she paused and looked at him. "I'm not...entirely sure on who you're talking about, but I apologize for not acting sooner."

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, confusion in her tone. "You're the one who got him away from me, right? If anything, I should be thanking you."

"There is no need," he turned his face away out of shame, not being able to look her in the eye. "I should have acted sooner."

He would never say it outloud, but it was a relief when she rolled her eyes at him, erasing the tired and sad look from her face. "I don't know what you would have done. Well, other than stabbing him with that sword," she indicated the sword attached to its sheath hooked onto his armor. She then stretched her pale arms over her head, letting out a little yawn. "At least you could do _something_ ," she stressed that last part out earnestly. Her small hands folded in her long fingers interlacing with each other. "All I did was stand there like a dumb idiot."

"I do not think you were being a 'dumb idiot'," he replied to this, a bit perplexed as to why she was blaming herself. He'd witness the whole event; the shock of seeing the prisoner jump through the barrier had been evident on her face. There was nothing she could have done to prevent him from unblocking memories that perhaps she didn't want to remember. "Think for a moment; really think. What could you have done?"

She sighed at that, nodding her head slowly in agreement. Part of her shoulder length black hair moved across her face, her left hand automatically pushing it back to reveal her face once more. "I...guess you're right," she seemed too tired to give a snappy remark; too worn out. Her lips did twitch upwards in a rather sardonic manner. "I mean, the most I can do is twitch a rock. Real impressive, right?"

With her left hand, she fiddled with the necklace that lay gently on her collarbone. He'd never really paid any attention to it before, but he could not help but observe it now. The beads were of medium size; definitely Midgardian minerals. He could tell the green beads were of jade, and the deep blue ones of lapis lazuli. In between each bead was a silver bead. Each bead had a carving in it, each picture different and reminded him vaguely of the hieroglyphic pictures his mother would show him as a child as she told him the story of his people.

She noticed his gaze on her necklace and looked down at it, holding the necklace a little farther out so she could get a good look at it. "It was my dad's necklace," she spoke calmly, almost nostalgically as she studied the beads. "The symbols on the beads tells one of the stories of our tribe."

"Which story?"

He caught the little smile of pride that lifted the corners of her lips. Her eyes brightened at the mention of her family, fingers tracing the designs. "This necklace tells the story of White Painted Woman. She gave birth to two sons, Child Of Water and Killer Of Enemies, who were born on White Mountain during a violent rainstorm with thunder and lightning came from the sky. Monsters who feared White Painted Woman wanted to destroy her sons, but she raised them to be brave and skillful. They defeated the monsters when they grew up into men and saved the world for the humans that were living in fear of these monsters."

She let the necklace lay flat against her collarbone, yet her fingers still clutched it tightly. "It was my dad's favorite story," she spoke softly in an almost inaudible tone. "He said this necklace was given to him by his grandfather, who taught him how to make beads and how to carve on them. He told me that this necklace was my great-grandfather's best work."

It felt strange to have her share this intimate piece of herself with him. Not that he wasn't fascinated by it, rather he didn't think he'd be the one to hear it. She was so guarded; defensive to the point he couldn't tell too much about her besides the fact she was sarcastic and had a temper that rivaled even Prince Thor's. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit flattered by it, despite the fact he didn't deserve it.

"Sorry," she wiped her eyes and he snapped out of his thoughts, not realizing she'd been crying. "Didn't mean to bore you there."

"I was not bored," he spoke honestly, hoping she would see that. "When my mother was alive, she told me stories similar to yours."

"Really?" she seemed impressed by this. No, impressed wasn't the right word. She seemed interested in this shared piece of information they both held. Her face then fell, the tips of her ears turning pink as she flushed. "Oh, sorry. You told me about your parents, I believe."

"It was a long time ago," he brushed it off quickly, shaking his head. She already had enough to deal with; he didn't need to add his own problems to hers. "But yes, she told me similar stories."

"Like what?"

He opened his mouth to reply to that, but then ultimately closed it. He stood up from the chair next to her bed, posture straightening as he addressed her once more. "Another time, perhaps," he bowed to her, eyes leaving hers momentarily. "I must leave now, My Lady. I will come and see how you are doing later."

"Alright then," she seemed a bit disappointed by this for she gave a little sigh. "Go and do whatever the Pirate guy asks."

He couldn't help but smile at that. "I don't think he likes being called that, My Lady."

"Whatever you say, Einar."


End file.
